When Nobody Looks, Nobody Sees
by rockhawk
Summary: Klaine FutureFic - They've been apart for 8 years, and run into each other in a coffee shop one day. Blaine is just a shell of the man he was - Kurt is determined to find out why.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my story for "No Shame November" which I read about somewhere – a month to write whatever shakes you. I liked the concept, so I am doing so. This story is heavy Klaine action with some others thrown in, including a significant OC. Thoughts/flashbacks are in italics. Warnings include: language, smut in later chapters (but not smut for smut's sake), and possible triggers. I'll put warnings with specific chapters that need more than that. I hope you read and review. This one's going to be darker than my other stuff! I still and never have owned anything Glee (unfortunately for me) but the plot and the OCs are mine. **

_I'm a 27 year old fuck up who can't do anything right_. That was the mantra that kept running through Blaine's head all morning. Nothing had gone right; his alarm hadn't gone off so he was late, he missed his train and once he had made it to work, one of the senior partners had yelled at him for messing up a contract that he hadn't even handled for that long. Everyone he worked with had heard since he was still an underling attorney with only a cubicle office.

He needed to escape the office at lunch and so he'd headed to a local coffee shop that was near his office. He'd picked up coffee, a medium drip, but nothing to go with it. He needed to concentrate on anything but how he'd managed to fuck up again and the hunger he felt was a good distraction.

He picked a corner table, away from most of the people having lunch and by the big window so he had an excuse to keep on his sunglasses. They helped him hide from the world while he was lost in his own mind. He could actually meet people's eyes when he wore them without them knowing. He hated people looking into his eyes – he always felt like they could see too far into his thoughts.

Blaine sat there at the table for a while, book open in front of him thinking about his life. He knew he was a screw up – he had been since high school. His parents had made sure he'd known that, even though underneath it all he thought that they did love him. His father had been the best at making him feel like crap, he had his own mantras that Blaine heard constantly since he'd been in high school, "_Good grades, Blaine. That's all that matters! You're grounded from seeing that boy until you've gotten back to all A's again. . . . Why can't you do anything right? We've given you everything – if you can't get straight A's you're done – no more Warblers, no more music, no more boyfriend, no more extra-curriculars. . . . You're such a fuck up, why can't you see what's important. . . . Are you that dim-witted? God – your brother gets this why can't you? . . . . Get out of my presence I can't even stand to look at you."_ That last statement had been repeated at great length. Blaine could barely stand to look at himself now too; he saw the failure his father had always seen every time he looked in the mirror.

He'd ruined the only good relationship he'd ever had, gone running into the arms of a man who had single handedly taken everything else from him and had left him a shell of his former self. He'd let that man break his spirit. Everything that had once made him _him_ was gone, even his family didn't want him anymore. They never called, never checked on him and only made a brief appearance at his law school graduation because they knew it was expected.

He had celebrated that evening by himself – his parents left and his boyfriend couldn't be bothered to take him out. He drank so much champagne that night by himself trying to celebrate his accomplishment and forget that everyone important to him didn't care. He had been hung over for two days. His parents didn't even see him anymore, choosing to look through him instead of help him.

His brother called occasionally, but was so wrapped up in his own life that he never even asked how Blaine was. His calls were always a list of how awesome his life was. Blaine didn't blame him though; it was the way they'd been raised. It wasn't his fault their parents considered him the golden child and Blaine the screwed up disappointment.

So here he was, finally in New York City because there was nowhere else for him to go and it was just so easy to not be noticed here. And that's what he wanted – to not be noticed, to blend in, not stand out and just exist without fanfare. He sighed, and took another drink of his scalding hot coffee.

He'd been in the City for just about four months, moving as soon as he had passed the bar for the state. He'd finally found a job at a mid-level law firm, small enough that he didn't have to work 80 hour weeks, but large enough he could remain unnoticed there as well. He did his work, went home, slept and went back. He didn't go out, he didn't think he deserved too. Everything he touched broke or deserted him so he tried not to – not to feel, not to reach out to anyone and definitely not to cause anyone to take any notice. 

Life was so much easier as a nobody. It wasn't that much more pleasant, being alone all the time, and realizing that he would be alone for the rest of his life. But it meant less pain and that was enough, the absence of pain made up for the absence of love. Together, the absences meant numbness and numbness was definitely better than hurt. Because he could no longer fool himself even – who would want to be with someone like him?

His first ex, the one he thought would love him forever, had left him without explanation. He'd figured it out over the years and now it made sense - he wasn't good enough; he was garbage to be thrown away when he was used up and finished. And the last guy, he'd tried so hard to fix everything that had gone wrong with the first one, Kurt, but it ended even worse and now he knew for sure he was trash, not worth a second glance by anyone.

Occasionally, he let himself stop at this coffee shop near his office on his lunch break. He hated going into smaller stores and cafes because he didn't like it when people spoke to him or looked directly in his eyes. In the past, he'd been the friendliest person of all his friends and family. He made friends with everyone he spoke with; he bounced with energy and had an infectious smile that none were immune too. But now, he preferred it if no one recognized him, no ties to anyone meant no one to confirm once again that he really was crap. If they didn't know him, he didn't have to have them hate him or leave him.

Blaine was lost in his thoughts, staring at his coffee, the forgotten book open in front of him or out the window. He knew he had to make it back to the office soon, but he was dreading it. He lingered, wanting to disappear into the woodwork. He enjoyed the sounds of those around him, as long as they didn't approach him or try to get him to talk. The sound was comforting as was the smell of all the coffees, slightly tinted with pumpkin from the fall line of drinks. He sighed, wishing he was anywhere else, that he was anyone else except this loser that he'd become.

Kurt almost didn't see him, let alone recognize him. He was off in a corner, back to the wall, with sunglasses on. He was hunched over, curling in on himself and appeared to be reading a book. If it weren't for the mop of black curls that were slightly grown out, Kurt probably wouldn't have even noticed him. Curls like his always caught his eye, because Kurt was always sub-consciously hoping they would belong to Blaine. He hadn't seen or spoken to him in around eight years, but he always held him close to his heart and missed the hell out of him.

Kurt did a double take and for once those curls actually did belong to Blaine – or at least a man who looked so much like him he could be his twin. He kept eyeing the man over in the corner while he waited, making sure it was him. He saw him reach his hand up and run it through the loose curls. Kurt knew then it was him – he'd seen him make that same movement so many times in the past. He couldn't help but stare, until the barista called out his order.

Kurt glanced away from Blaine, and walked up to the barista holding his coffee. He took the paper cup from her and left a generous tip. "Thanks, man!" She said, turning away and leaving him there, unsure of what to do. He made a quick decision, figuring that after eight years he should at least say hello. He turned back towards his ex and felt his feet move him closer.

He second guessed himself all the way up to Blaine's table, but he knew it was him. Blaine was significantly thinner – his face showed gaunt lines that hadn't been there when they had been younger. He was maybe a little taller from a late growth spurt after high school but it was hard to tell since he was sitting down. His face showed the thinness the most and his skin appeared to be paler than Kurt remembered it. He was wearing dark clothes that seemed to hang off him along with the sunglasses which were strange inside, although he was seated right next to a window. But his hair was the same, just longer and freed from the gelled prison Blaine kept it in during their high school and early college years.

"Blaine?" He said, more of a question than anything.

The other man looked up at the sound of his name, "Kurt?" He removed his sunglasses and laid them on his book, giving Kurt the first view of his eyes and marking his page. They looked darker than Kurt remembered with less sparkle, and had huge black circles under them. Quite frankly, he looked like hell warmed over. Blue eyes met hazel for just the briefest of seconds before Blaine's moved lower, settling somewhere around Kurt's collar.

"Hey Blaine! It's, uh, been a long time, hasn't it," he said awkwardly, switching his coffee cup from one hand to the other.

"Yeah, it has, would um, you like to have a seat? I still have some of my coffee left if you'd like to join me," Blaine wouldn't quite meet Kurt's eyes.

"Sure," he pulled out the seat opposite Blaine thinking of how many times they had done this before, stealing glances across coffee cups, sharing smiles and laughing in their own little world. So much time had gone by since those days, but Blaine still desperately missed that time. His heart panged a bit at the thought.

Kurt settled back in his seat and took the lid off his coffee cup so it would cool faster. He looked up at Blaine who was obviously stealing glances at him but who still had trouble meeting his eyes. "So when did you get to the city? Last I heard from anyone you were still in school."

"I, uh, moved here about four months ago, after I passed New York's bar exam," Blaine didn't offer him any information more than absolutely necessary, it seemed. "What are you up to now, Kurt?" He steered the conversation away from himself quickly and skillfully, obviously someone who had learned how to do that quite well.

"I'm working for Vogue – nothing big but I do a lot of editing for them and have a little article of my own. It's a great start into the industry, if it's what I want to continue to do. I still sing some on the side too," he laughed a little at himself, "It's always been a toss-up with me which way to go and it seems I still can't quite make up my mind."

"That's wonderful, Kurt!" Blaine's eyes rose to meet his for just a few moments before they lowered to his coffee cup again. "It's awesome you're getting to do both things you love." His voice sounded flat and hollow, even though Kurt could tell by his body language that he did mean what he was saying. Something seemed really off about Blaine. He seemed defensive and heavily guarded. Clearly, he was not excited about running into Kurt randomly.

"Yeah, it's a lot of work, but not so bad since I enjoy it. So what kind of law do you practice, Blaine? I can't believe that you've already become an attorney – it seems like yesterday we were just kids!"

Blaine's eyes skittered over the coffee shop and he fiddled with his coffee cup. "Well, I do a lot of different things. Mainly family law stuff and estates, you know that kind of thing." He couldn't have been much more ambiguous, but to Kurt at least it was some piece of information. He'd always regretted the way it had ended with Blaine, and especially hated that they'd lost touch, although that was mainly his fault. A silence fell between them as Blaine didn't offer any other information about his life.

Blaine's coffee cup had emptied in the silence. He glanced down at his watch, "Well, uh, I'd better get going. I have to get back to the office before too long. It was nice to see you, Kurt." Blaine started to get up, grabbing his coat off of the bench next to him and gathering his things.

"Wait, Blaine, I'd love to see you again and catch up some more," he reached for his wallet and pulled out his business card from Vogue. "It's got all my info on it – call me or text or email or whatever," Kurt tried to catch his eyes, which seemed to be looking anywhere but into Kurt's. "We should get together."

Blaine reached out and took the card, but didn't offer Kurt one of his own. "Yeah, sure that'd be great," his voice was still flat.

"Really, Blaine, I mean it. Please get a hold of me," he reached out to put his hand on the other man's arm. Blaine flinched a little under the touch, even though he was wearing a coat. He picked up his sunglasses and settled them back on his drawn face.

"Yeah, sure. Well, until another time then, Kurt," Blaine's mouth pulled up a little at the corners in the fakest of forced smiles. He turned on his heel and left. Kurt followed him out and watched his slightly hunched form leave, perplexed at how much Blaine appeared to have changed. He had always been so self-assured, his presence taking over whatever space he was in. His smile had been infectious and now it appeared to be completely missing.

Kurt sincerely hoped that he would hear from the other man, but doubted he would. Blaine didn't appear to be the same open person Kurt had known years ago. Kurt leaned up against the building, contemplating what had just happened. Something had happened to Blaine - that much was clear. His boisterous personality was all but gone and even his choice of dress was so different from the way it had been.

He made a decision right then and there, that no matter what had happened in Blaine's past or to Blaine, no matter how Kurt had hurt him a long time ago, he was going to try to reconnect with him even if it was just as friends. He hoped he could help change whatever it was in Blaine's life that made him this way; he wanted to help get him back to the way he had been. Back to the boy who shouted Katy Perry songs at the top of his lungs, jumped up and down on any available furniture, knew where to get bubble machines and could make Kurt's knees turn to jelly with just one twitch of his mouth.

Kurt watched him turn the corner a block down and as soon as he was out of sight, he headed in the opposite direction. Even Blaine's walk seemed different. He'd always had a slight bounce of uncontrolled energy in his step. That was missing now. Kurt thought about Blaine all the way back to his office, deep in memories that seeing his high school love had dredged up. He had to have known Kurt was in the City, so why hadn't he called or emailed or tried to get ahold of him in anyway?

**The next chapters are in the works. I hope you enjoy and please read and review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**On to chapter 2 – thanks for all the wonderful reviews! It truly makes my day when my phone alerts me to a review alert! I'm still without a beta – so if anyone is interested in the job, let me know! Flashbacks/memories are in italics as are thoughts. Lots of angst in this chapter with a little fluff mixed in! I hope you enjoy (and I still don't own Glee). **

Weeks went by with no word from Blaine. Kurt couldn't stop thinking about their short encounter in the coffee shop. Despite his best efforts, he was hurt that Blaine hadn't contacted him. As he went through his daily routines, his mind was constantly wandering back through all the memories that seeing him had brought to the forefront of his mind.

He caught himself thinking of Blaine while at work, when he was trying to write his articles, at fashion shows he should have been paying more attention too and even at home when he went back to his stylish but small two-bedroom apartment.

It seemed like every little thing he saw now reminded him of Blaine. He'd see someone in a red and gray striped scarf and memories would surface of their times at the Lima Bean warming up with coffee on cold winter days. The occasional bow tie on a model in a fashion show reminded him of the near obsession Blaine had had with them after he transferred to McKinley High to spend more time with him. A man on the street passing him happened to be wearing Blaine's favorite cologne and he was immediately thrown back to the evenings they had spent together cuddled on Blaine's bed staring into each other's eyes. Despite his best efforts, Blaine's memory had wormed his way back into Kurt's mind and seeing him again became almost a mission for Kurt.

He started stopping by the coffee shop they had met in more often in the hopes that he would run into him again, but he was without luck. He even went to the extent of looking up law firms near the coffee shop since Blaine had apparently walked there from work. That became a nearly impossible task as there were tons of attorney's offices within walking range, even more within a short hop on the subway. Add in the fact that most the websites hadn't been updated in a long time, and Kurt was stymied in his attempt to find the other man.

He couldn't get over the fact that Blaine had seemed so different from the bubbly teenager he had known. That was the part that really stuck in Kurt's mind. He fully understood that people mellowed with age, even Rachel had toned down some, but people tended to not lose innate qualities that defined their personalities.

Blaine hadn't seemed like Blaine without his dancing eyes, the bounce in his step and a ready smile always twitching the corners of his mouth. It bothered Kurt to notice such large changes in him in just a short encounter. He could feel twinges of guilt when he thought about it, hoping that it didn't have anything to do with him or how things ended between them. He knew it had been rough – their break up had been rough on him too, but he was the one that caused it. Years had passed though, so he was hoping that it wasn't just him that had destroyed some of the things he had loved most about Blaine.

These thoughts brought many restless nights to Kurt through those weeks waiting for Blaine to contact him or to run into him again. His dreams seemed laced with memories of Blaine; his eyes haunted him when he woke up from fitful sleep.

Running into Kurt in the coffeehouse had been deeply unsettling for Blaine. He had thought he'd found a routine – one that allowed him to live his life without having to worry about feeling the pain again. But that damn day that he had that stupid weakness and he had gone into the coffee shop had changed all that. He couldn't help but think about Kurt now and that brought back so much that he didn't ever want to deal with again.

Kurt had looked wonderful – as he always had. He seemed happy and healthy and no doubt probably had a boyfriend. His skin was still perfectly porcelain with just hints of pink below the surface. His blue green eyes still danced as if the stars themselves existed in their depths.

Blaine was happy for him – Kurt was an amazing person who deserved amazing things. He knew that's why he had never been good enough for him – he wasn't amazing; he wasn't anything. He didn't deserve Kurt and never had. Seeing him again, excited about life and living his dreams was difficult, though, because Blaine had always wanted to be right there with him, supporting and loving him throughout their lives.

He had escaped the confines of the coffee shop as soon as he could make a decent excuse and bee-lined it back to work. He was nearly sick from running into him. He had dreamed of that moment since the day they'd broken up, but it hadn't gone the way he'd ever envisioned it. He'd had to leave the office early that day, calling unnecessary attention to himself, but he couldn't even function or think about work with all the memories bubbling to the surface. He was grateful it was a Friday because he had the rest of the weekend to deal with his memories.

He was helpless to the bombardment going on in his brain – he couldn't stop remembering everything he'd loved and missed about Kurt that he had managed to keep locked in the back of his brain. Kurt in his arms, Kurt's voice saying "I love you", their joint high school graduation party, the giddiness of moving to college, the first night he'd stayed in Kurt's arms, the blue-green his eyes turned when they were lying in bed after making love for hours, the visits, kisses, wishes, dreams, everything he'd wanted since the day he'd laid eyes on Kurt singing _Blackbird_. It all rushed back to him through eight years of nothing to the forefront and he had to hide. He made it back to his apartment and cracked a fresh bottle of Jack. There was no messing around getting to the forgetting tonight.

It had been awful after they had broken up. They'd only made it through about two months of their first year of college. Kurt had called him one day after Blaine had been gone visiting Wes and David for the weekend. They were a few hours away at another university and he'd taken a long weekend to go visit his old Warbler pals. He'd made it back, and was calling to check in with Kurt and to see how his weekend had gone. They went to the same school, but they lived a ways apart and it was late anyway.

Kurt had let him ramble on about his weekend, and then over a half an hour into the conversation, he'd stopped Blaine and just dropped the bomb on him. They were finished and it wasn't up for discussion. Kurt even asked him not to call for at least a month. He'd then hung up on him, no explanation, no reason and no warning. The week before, Kurt had been in his bed, sheets warm, legs tangled together, kisses and cuddles and whispers of a life together. And it had all been taken from him in one short phone call. Kurt hadn't even bothered to tell him to his face. He hadn't been able to go to class for three days, let alone get out of bed.

That first night after running into Kurt in the coffee shop was the worst, seeing him had forced him to realize once again everything he'd screwed up in his life. Kurt had that ability – the ability to make him feel things, even when he didn't want to. He hated himself for giving another person that power over him. The numbness he'd become accustom to was so much better and less painful.

It took him three days to recover enough to semi-function from the coffee shop encounter as well. Kurt's nearness to him and the caring that Blaine had caught in his eyes was almost more than he could bear. He'd waited until he'd made it home before he broke down. The whiskey he brought home with him dulled the pain the first night and made him forget, for a little while. At least now he was able to cope a bit better after the first drunken night. The second and third days were spent curled in his bed, thankful it was a weekend so he didn't have to call in sick. He started to eat even less than he already was because he already looked like crap, he didn't feel like cooking, and nobody cared anyway, so why should he. It was much easier to concentrate on the pain in his stomach than the pain in his heart.

When Monday came around, he was able to make it to work and perform as expected. No one expected him to talk much because he never had. To his co-workers, he had always been thin, looking always slightly overworked and tired. He'd never had a bounce in his step or an obscene amount of enthusiasm – he was considered one of the most quiet and reserved people at the firm.

He decided not to leave the office for lunch, instead grabbing something from one of the other businesses in the building or bringing something with him or most days, not stopping to eat at all. He knew he couldn't go back to the coffee shop. He might run into Kurt there, and it would be too painful.

Every night in the next few weeks, he made it back to his small apartment and lost himself in a pile of soft warm blankets, forcing himself through his memories in an attempt to regain the numbness he'd achieved before. Not only were the memories of those wonderful times with Kurt coming back, but also those memories of his most recent and biggest mistake, Alexander.

It seemed to him that he would be forced to relive that hell as well before he could make it back to the point of numbness again. He had thought that Alexander would be the great love of his life, after Kurt. He'd tried so hard to make it work, but there was something wrong with him that made others not want to be around him for the long haul.

No matter what he did or put up with, it was never enough and Alexander had eventually left him too. When he had left, he'd taken the last of Blaine's self-respect with him as well. He was nothing, just as Alexander had always told him, a piece of disposable human garbage.

It was a bright Saturday morning, and Kurt woke early. The forecast was for a relatively warm day for this late in October and Kurt was looking forward to spending a quiet day catching up on some things he had been neglecting. He spent a while getting ready, making his bed, fluffing the pillows and tidying up things that he had left undone the night before. He stretched as he looked out his floor to ceiling window in the living room – one of his favorite things about his apartment. He might not have a balcony, but he had a beautiful view.

After the few mundane tasks, he got his newspaper from his mailbox and went to start the coffee. Pulling out the tin, he discovered it was empty. _Damn it_. He grabbed a jacket and headed down the five flights of stairs and down the street toward the nearest coffee shop. There was a Starbucks not three blocks away and he really was craving something pumpkin spice.

As he made his way into the shop, he groaned as he noticed the huge line. There were at least 10 people in front of him and they appeared to be they type of people who couldn't do with just a medium drip or even a pumpkin spice latte – they were the type who _had_ to order something ridiculous like a venti Frappuccino with extra ice, shots of caramel and white mocha extra foam, extra caramel drizzle, non-fat.

He sighed realizing that the line was going to take forever, but that he desperately wanted his pumpkin spice, so he decided to stay and people watch for a while as he made his way up to the front of the line. He'd been there about 15 minutes and was almost to the counter, when he noticed him way to the back of the shop. Blaine's back was to him and he appeared to be bent over a book again, coffee in one hand and the other propping up his chin.

He couldn't believe it was him; this coffee shop was at least 10 blocks from the other one where they had run into each other. But the curly hair left no doubt in his mind, as did his posture that so matched the way he had looked a few weeks before. As soon as he could, he ordered his coffee and asked the barista to hurry as politely as he could. Since Blaine had blown him off, he was pretty sure that if he didn't catch him this morning he'd really never hear from him again. He was also in danger of Blaine turning around, seeing him and leaving while he was still in line.

The bored looking girl behind the counter handed him his cup. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and headed towards the hunched over, curly-haired man. He shouldn't have worried about him seeing him, since as Kurt got closer he could see that the other man's eyes were closed and his head tipped down.

It appeared that he'd fallen asleep while trying to read his book, hand still holding up his head. Kurt took a second to take in the sight of him. He was still pretty gaunt, even more so if possible than before. The dark circles were still there under his eyes and his lips looked incredibly chapped. His hair was disheveled and the sweatshirt he had on was huge on him, engulfing his body.

Kurt paused for a moment, unsure if he should wake him or interrupt him even. He made up his mind, not wanting to miss this second chance meeting. He reached out his hand and laid it lightly on Blaine's shoulder, giving it a slight shake. "Blaine?" He asked quietly, not wanting to startle him awake. Blaine jumped, recoiling from the light touch on his shoulder. He squeaked in surprise, eyes big and full of fear. When his eyes focused and settled on Kurt, he stuttered out, "K-Kurt, what's going on? I mean wh-how, um, I should go." His eyes fell down and he moved to gather up his things.

One Saturday, after a sleepless night resulting from finding some old pictures on his laptop of Kurt and him back in high school, he headed to the nearby Starbucks for a cup of coffee. He hadn't gone back to the one he'd run into Kurt at since that day, but he figured this one was far enough away from the other that he was probably safe. He brought a book with him and settled himself, back to the door, a little after 10am.

His eyelids felt a little tired, and he let them droop; only going to rest them for a minute. He felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped at the touch. "Blaine?" _Oh God, it was Kurt._ He would never escape this hell.

"K-Kurt, what's going on? I mean wh-how, um, I should go." He nearly knocked the table over in his effort to stand up and get his bearings.

"Blaine, I don't mean to be pushy, but are you ok? You don't look so good." Kurt seemed to study him. It was then that Blaine realized Kurt's hand was still reached out toward his shoulder.

"I'm – I'm fine, I just, um well, I have somewhere I have to be," it sounded lame even to Blaine's ears. He stood up and grabbed at his coat, but his knees started to give out on him. His eyes started to swim and everything went a bit fuzzy. "Um, Kurt, I can't see anything right now," Blaine whispered out.

"Hey, sit down a second – you're going to faint if you don't!" Kurt pushed him back down into his chair, concern creasing his forehead. When he'd initially reached out to wake Blaine he could feel the bones of his shoulder through his sweater. He put a hand to Blaine's face, cradling his chin. His skin felt cold and slightly clammy, "Blaine, what's wrong? When was the last time you had something more than coffee?"

Blaine managed to hold on to consciousness; his eyes slowly clearing. He tried to focus on Kurt's shirt collar instead of his eyes. He thought for a minute. He'd had a croissant at some point yesterday; well he thought it was yesterday. But he did have a mocha yesterday afternoon and that had calories in it, so technically he thought that counted. "Um, probably something yesterday, I think." His eyes were downcast, still not meeting Kurt's, who was crouched by his knees so he could look up into Blaine's face without drawing much attention to them.

"Ok that's it Blaine. You need to eat something – something homemade. Please, come back with me to my apartment," Kurt pleaded with him, "It's only a block from here and I'll cook you something. You can even rest there – it's gotta be better than falling asleep in a Starbucks."

He wanted to protest, to get away, to hide from his feelings and from Kurt but he was finally simply drained of energy. There was no fight left, at least for today. He sighed, "Oh, ok – but just for a little while."

Kurt grabbed Blaine's book, satchel and helped him with his coat. Blaine was a bit wobbly on his feet and so he even put a balancing arm around Blaine's shoulders. They walked the short block to Kurt's apartment and for once Kurt took the elevator, not sure if Blaine could deal with the stairs in his condition. Seeing him today, exhausted and terribly thin to the point of nearly fainting, it was painfully obvious something was horribly wrong in Blaine's life and Kurt quickly made up his mind to relieve whatever part of Blaine's troubles he could today.

Kurt unlocked the door to his apartment and guided Blaine in. He threw his keys down on the kitchen table and steered Blaine into the living room. His apartment may be small, but it was tasteful and comfortable. It was done in shades of gray, with highlights of greens and blues which reminded Blaine immediately of Kurt's eyes.

Kurt left him laid out on his couch, staring out the immense window at the city. He'd wrapped him in a blanket and told him he'd be back in just a few minutes with something for them to eat. Blaine stared at the beautiful view and took in the room around him with half lidded eyes.

He was exhausted. This not sleeping business didn't agree with him, especially when it lasted for weeks, only a few hours of solid sleep here and there. The blanket Kurt had wrapped him in smelled slightly of lavender and sandalwood – two scents that Blaine remembered being favorites of Kurt's. He buried his nose down into the blanket and leaned his head back on one of the pillows on the couch. His eyes slowly shut and he concentrated on the sounds of Kurt in the kitchen making something for him, the warmth that surrounded him and the smell of Kurt that permeated the room.

As soon as he had fallen asleep, memories of Alex had surfaced. He could hear Alexander's cutting words as he said goodbye to him one time at the airport when he was going home to visit his family. _"You know, Blaine, I don't really think I love you. I don't know that I ever did. I can't even stand to look at your face. What could I have ever seen in you?" He had turned on his heel, leaving Blaine to go through security and wait for two hours before his flight back to Ohio. _

_He'd spent eight hours travelling that day by the time he got home. He'd spent whatever time he could in the bathroom at the airport where he could hide and sob in semi-private. He tried to sleep on the planes but it eluded him, forcing him to think about his screwed up life and how much he loved Alexander and how much Alexander didn't love him. His dad picked him up at the airport, and took him home where he collapsed on his bed, tears never coming because his eyes were finally and painfully dry. About an hour after he had gotten home, his phone had rung, it was Alex._

"_Huh-hello?" Blaine said hesitantly into the phone, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He couldn't believe that they were over; he dreaded the trip back because he knew he would have to move out and it would be hell. _

"_Hey hon! You didn't call me when you got to your parents' house! I was getting worried!" Alexander said cheerfully into the phone._

"_Wha-what? I don't understand, Alex. I thought you broke up with me this morning," Blaine whispered into the phone. _

"_Oh, that . . ." Alexander paused, "If I was a little weird this morning, just ignore it. I didn't mean it. I was having an off day." His nonchalance about the situation sickened Blaine as he thought about the tortured day he'd just spent flying across the country feeling his heartbreak more with each mile. "I don't want to hear about our conversation this morning again, understand? I had an off day that's it." _

_Blaine could tell the conversation and the reasons behind what Alexander had told him that morning were now in "off-limits" territory. "So, I had a busy day today – I'm so sick of my job." Alexander continued to blather on about his life for another 20 minutes before he told Blaine he was tired and needed to go to bed. "See you soon!" Once they were off the phone, Blaine realized that Alexander had never apologized; never let him tell about how he'd spent the day crying and having his heart torn to bits. Alexander didn't care. _

When Kurt came back in the room, with two large bowls of homemade chicken and vegetable soup (from his step-mother Carol's recipe) he paused as he took in the sight of Blaine. He'd curled up on the couch, even more so than the way Kurt had left him. His face was half buried in a pillow and the blanket was wrapped in a tight cocoon around him. His forehead was wrinkled and he was thrashing a bit.

As much as Blaine obviously needed sleep, it was apparent to Kurt that he was having a nightmare. Kurt put down the tray of soup and sat down next to Blaine's hips on the couch. He reached out a hand and ran it gently through his favorite curls in the world. "Hey, wake up, Blaine, lunch is ready and you're having a bad dream," he whispered to the sleeping man. Blaine's eyes flashed open and fear was readable on his face for the second time that morning.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down, it's just me," Kurt whispered soothingly. Blaine's eyes focused on Kurt's face and he slowly calmed down, his breathing slowing towards normal. "I'm here, it's ok." Blaine's eyes met Kurt's and held there for the first time since they'd reunited. "Are you alright, Blaine? I made you some lunch; I remember that you used to like Carol's soup so I warmed some up for us. I keep a stash in my freezer for when I desperately need a home cooked meal. I'm pretty sure now is one of those times."

"Um, yeah, I'm ok, I guess. Sorry. I don't really sleep well or wake up well either. And, um, that soup does smell good." Blaine attempted a smile and shook the last of the memory of Alex from his head. He couldn't believe that Kurt was taking care of him like this. He took the bowl of soup Kurt was offering him and breathed in a deep breath of the wonderful smell. His stomach growled loudly in response. Kurt chuckled at him – "I guess you really are hungry, Blaine! There's always more if you want it. Should I put in a movie?"

"It smells delicious. Thanks. I mean, for everything. You didn't have to bring me home like a lost puppy. I can take care of myself, you know. But I do appreciate it, really," he was still on the offensive, trying to save face in front of Kurt. "Um, you don't happen to have Aladdin do you?" He asked almost too hopefully, his voice barely a whisper and he sounded almost embarrassed to be asking for the movie.

"Of course I do! I even have it on Blu-ray – so be ready for some high def Aladdin action coming your way!" Kurt grinned at Blaine who feebly smiled in return. Once the movie was started, Kurt settled on the couch next to Blaine and pulled the blanket over him as well.

As Aladdin entered as Prince Ali, Kurt looked over at Blaine and realized that he had fallen asleep nearly sitting upright holding a completely empty bowl. He took the bowl and smiled sadly at his ex-boyfriend, the shadow of the man he had once knew. He eased him over so he was closer to Kurt, laid his head on a pillow near Kurt's lap and smoothed the curls off his forehead. He wanted to cuddle him, but as violently as Blaine had reacted to his touch earlier, he didn't want to scare him.

It was a big enough step today, getting him to come to Kurt's apartment in the first place. He was pretty sure Blaine hadn't eaten much lately judging from the state of his body. But he had requested one of their old favorite movies and that was a step in the right direction. By the time "_A Whole New World_" was playing, both men were asleep on the couch. They unconsciously moved towards one another, reaching out their fingertips until they met.

**Thanks for reading! This ended up being my longest chapter to date! I couldn't resist at least a touch of fluff at the end. I'll try to update at least once a week! Your reviews are awesome and I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to write one! If anyone has any suggestions, let me know :-) **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback! The reviews have been amazing and I truly appreciate each and every one! This chapter is a bit shorter than the last, but I have the next one coming very soon (next few days) so I hope that will make up for it! **

Blaine struggled to open his eyes. He had been so exhausted, that even now after sleeping awhile his eyelids seemed heavy and everything was difficult to move. _Where the hell was he?_ His head hurt, his body ached, but he was warm and cozy and felt an overwhelming feeling of _safe_. His mind seemed clearer than it had been in a while despite his body's exhaustion. Through barely open eyes, he glanced around the room, remembering slowly that he was at Kurt's apartment. He was still wrapped in the blanket that Kurt had pulled around him; his head lay on a soft pillow.

He started to move and stretch just a little and he realized something was touching the hand which was laid on his pillow, curved up and around his head. He recoiled quickly when he looked at it and saw that he was touching just the fingertips of Kurt's hands – they had woven their fingertips together in their sleep. Kurt was still fast asleep, his head on a separate pillow, his mess of brown hair dark against the light pillow, a blanket pulled loosely over him.

Blaine knew instinctively he had to get out. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what was happened with the two of them. He didn't want this with Kurt, not yet. He wasn't ready for it. He couldn't let someone, even Kurt, into his life and his heart. He was damaged goods and in the end he'd just screw everything up again, like he always did.

Kurt would expect him to be the person he was in high school and he couldn't be that person anymore. He wasn't that person anymore. But Kurt would get tired of him even if he was the high school version of himself because that was who Kurt had chosen to leave. The person Kurt had abandoned. He didn't deserve Kurt and he knew it.

He rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. They were raw and red and it felt like there was sandpaper underneath the lids. He knew he had to escape and before Kurt woke, if he could. He never should have gone with Kurt back to his apartment. Blaine couldn't quite figure out why Kurt had even offered to taken him there and spend time with him. Kurt hated him, saw him for what he was – a worthless pile that nobody wanted. He hated him so much that he never contacted him after he'd dumped Blaine, not once. Blaine couldn't think of a single reason why Kurt would reach out to him now. He had to get out before Kurt woke up and regretted ever talking with him again. He was sure that would break what little spirit he had left.

He quickly looked around, made sure he had everything. He located his book, satchel and coat in Kurt's entry way. He contemplated leaving a note for Kurt explaining his exit, but decided against it. He didn't want to see Kurt again anytime soon; he just wanted to escape and get back to his own apartment before the inevitable breakdown happened.

He peeked back into the living room area one more time before he left, taking in the sight of Kurt deep in sleep, his arm still stretched up above his head to where their fingers had met. He still resembled an angel when he slept, beautiful pale skin glowing, light pink lips slightly separated, dark hair falling down onto his forehead. Blaine couldn't stand it anymore. He still couldn't control his feelings for this man; his heart was breaking all over again. Blaine eased his way out of Kurt's apartment after checking to make sure he had everything with him one more time. He didn't want to leave anything for fear that Kurt would be forced to look for him again. He eased the front door shut behind him, making sure to lock it from the inside before pulling it shut.

* * *

><p>Blaine made it back to his mess of an apartment and onto the couch, wrapped in his own blanket before the memories hit yet again. It was too early in the day for even Blaine to have a drink, so he just let them roll over him. He couldn't help the few tears that escaped his eyes, thinking about everything he had lost over the years and everything he had screwed up. His mind wandered back through his and Kurt's relationship, analyzing every detail for the millionth time, trying to see where he had missed everything slipping through his fingers.<p>

Back when they had been in high school, their relationship had been nearly perfect. They'd definitely had their fights – he'd never forget the night outside of Scandals, but they had always managed to work through them. They came out stronger in the end because of them. Kurt had been and still was everything Blaine wanted in a man and in a relationship.

Kurt had been so kind and caring towards not only him, but towards people in general. He was a protector, taking those weaker than him under his wing and doing whatever he could to make them better. Blaine had first realized that when the exchange student had gotten attacked during a renegade game of dodgeball. Once Kurt had found his courage, he never lost it and he never let anyone take it from him. He fought for it so hard it had become an ingrained quality that Blaine admired. Blaine still had his moments of wanting to hide, even in high school, but Kurt never wanted to – he was proud of himself and them as a couple and he wasn't afraid to show it.

He also had an innate ability to know Blaine's needs and desires and meet them without question. That was one aspect of Kurt that Blaine had missed everyday since he had broken up with him. Kurt had been able sense when and what he needed without him ever saying anything. He had thought that he was the same way with Kurt but apparently he had been wrong. Kurt had been able to ease the tension in his muscles with just a touch or a look, placed exactly where he needed it. By pressing a single light kiss to his forehead he had been able make Blaine's day infinitely improved.

Their lovemaking left nothing to be desired either; they fed off each other and each time seemed as perfect as the first. It wasn't always as slow and gentle as that time, but even when they were fucking instead of making love it was perfect because the air of love was still around them. They fit together so well that Blaine felt sure they had been made for each other. They were so in sync with each other that Blaine hadn't thought that he could ever be that intimate with another in his life.

But sometime after their joint graduation and after the perfect summer between high school and college, evidently something broke for Kurt. Blaine had never felt a difference in their relationship; he just knew that they didn't have as much time to spend together. He loved Kurt fiercely and never doubted the strength of their connection. He had thought Kurt felt the same.

They had chosen to attend different colleges, but in the same town so they could be closer. Kurt had gone into a program at the Chicago College of Performing Arts at Roosevelt University while Blaine had started at the University of Chicago dabbling in music but also pursuing a pre-law degree. The time required for both their schools was great and it stopped them from spending as much time together as they would have liked. Chicago proved to be colder and less welcoming than they had thought it would be, but they were meeting people in their programs who were turning into friends.

Somehow in the shuffle something had pulled them apart. Kurt felt it much more than Blaine, evidently. Blaine had tried to fight to keep them intact, even suggesting that they move in together. That last weekend they had together, Blaine had thought they were back on completely solid ground for good – everything had been going well for months. They had been spending more time together, traveling together, going to shows together, spending lazy Saturdays wrapped around each other and everything seemed to be wonderful. He had never loved Kurt more than he did then. One look in his eyes was enough to make Blaine's heart feel like he was falling in love with him all over again.

That last weekend, they'd ventured out from his dorm room only once – and it was to check out engagement rings for the third time. They'd narrowed it down to about four options and were going to surprise each other with their picks. Blaine knew he would never forget the look on Kurt's face as they narrowed down their choices, trying to pick the perfect bands to wear on their left ring fingers for the rest of their lives. His eyes were lit with pure joy and Blaine could feel the love radiate between the two of them. The rest of the weekend had been spent wrapped up in each other, becoming reacquainted with the other boy, making love to all hours of the day and night. Nothing had seemed to exist outside of their cocoon of love they'd created that weekend. Blaine's world had existed in those deep blue eyes of Kurt's.

It was exactly seven days later that he'd had his heart shattered so completely it was seemingly beyond repair. After that phone call, he hadn't moved for hours, other than to pull a blanket up over himself. He let the tears stream down his face, not wiping them away. He wasn't angry, he was just broken. Kurt, his Kurt, was through with him, didn't even want him in his life as a friend and he didn't know why. His body ached as the knowledge that this was really over sank in. It felt as though he had been ripped in two, that part of is being had been cut off, physically removed and replaced with nothingness. Everything he had wanted for his future was gone. His life had been built around him and Kurt and now half of that future was missing and everything came tumbling down.

Before Kurt had hung up, he'd requested that Blaine not contact him for at least a month – no texts, phone calls, emails and he told Blaine he'd blocked him on Facebook. He hung up the phone without so much as an "I'm sorry" or "I can't love you anymore" or any reason given at all. He didn't even get the "It's me, not you" speech. It was just _over_.

The month went by slowly, slower than any month had ever passed in all of Blaine's life. He thought on day 31 he might hear from Kurt, but he didn't. On day 32 he was hopeful again for some sort of message, a text if nothing else seeing how he was doing. Again, nothing. Days 35, 45, 55 and 90 passed with no messages, no contact, nothing from Kurt. Blaine could barely function. He was drinking too much again so he could cope. He was desperate for any word of Kurt.

It was obvious when he tried to call Kurt's friends from the New Directions to find anything out he could that Kurt had told them not to talk with Blaine about him. They wouldn't answer any of his questions about Kurt or what had happened between them. He felt shut off from them as well, so he cut them out of his life as Kurt had cut him out. The single phone call he had tried to make to Kurt ended in him discovering that Kurt had changed his number without giving Blaine his new one. That hurt almost the worst, knowing that even if he desperately needed Kurt for something, he had no way of getting a hold of him. Kurt didn't want to talk with him even just in an emergency. Blaine wasn't even worth that.

He moved into survival mode, just trying to get through school. The worst days were when he found something of Kurt's and didn't know what to do with it or when he caught sight of a picture of them laughing together. The absolute worst day of all was the day that the jewelry store had called wondering about their engagement ring orders. The dam had broken again that day and he had cried for an hour solid until the wracking sobs turned into dry heaving and he fell into a fitful sleep on the bathroom floor.

Two and a half years came and went with Blaine in survival mode. He got better and better about not feeling things. His ability to block out the memory of Kurt and everything he had lost improved as well. He was a robot in basically every aspect of his life. He no longer worked on his music because it was too closely related to Kurt and their life together. He went to school, went to work and went home to an empty dorm room. He and Kurt had planned on getting an apartment together for their sophomore year, but he didn't want to live in an apartment without Kurt so he had just stayed in the dorms, paying extra so he could have the solace of a single room.

In those two and a half years, he never heard from Kurt. Through Finn he eventually learned that Kurt was heading to New York City after graduation to work in fashion and pursue his acting and singing on the side. But he never heard anything else. The silence nearly killed him several nights when the darkness got too dark and seemed like it would never end.

Blaine had started to develop his numbness during those two and a half years, learning the hard way that it was easier to not feel than to go through what he had after Kurt had left him. He eventually figured out that there must be some innate flaw in him that Kurt saw that was so irreparable that he never wanted to see him again. He wasn't worth trying to fix.

He had gone over all this in his mind so many times in the past eight years since that fateful day that Kurt had left him. It broke his heart every time. He lay there on the couch in his messy apartment missing what they had, but unsure of where to go from here. Kurt hadn't wanted him then, why would he suddenly change his mind after so much time had passed? He'd never tried to call Blaine again or email him or anything. He hadn't even received a card from him at his graduation – from undergrad or from law school.

Blaine shook his head and cleared away the thoughts of his ex-boyfriend. He fell into a fitful sleep that night, like so many other nights in the past few weeks. Eventually the numbness would come, he assured himself. He'd make it back to that point. He had to.

* * *

><p>When Kurt woke up, he could feel the cramping in his arm before he even opened his eyes. The movie had finished, and his tv cast a bluish hue across the room from the menu screen. He raised his head to see if Blaine was still asleep too, only to be shocked in discovering that the other man wasn't lying on the other part of the couch.<p>

"Blaine?" He called out into the apartment, hoping that he was just up using the restroom or in the kitchen getting something. No answer came. He got up slowly, stretching the muscles that were protesting him sleeping at such an angle. "Blaine?" He called again, still hoping for an answer. He moved towards the back of the apartment, checking the bathroom and the two bedrooms. All were empty. He checked the kitchen then and noticed that Blaine's coat and satchel were gone. He checked the refrigerator door and the kitchen table, but there wasn't a note from Blaine explaining his departure.

Kurt looked at the clock and discovered that it was only about 2 in the afternoon. Much of Saturday was still left but strangely Kurt didn't feel like doing anything. He had focused so much in the last few weeks on finding Blaine and seeing him again, he didn't know what to do with himself now. It seemed like finding Blaine and keeping him around long enough to help him was going to prove to be extremely elusive task.

He grabbed a jacket from the nearby closet, pulled on some shoes and located his keys. He left his building and just started to walk. He had to clear his head. The afternoon fall sun was slightly warm on his neck, but there was a distinct chill in the air. He got to a nearby park and continued to walk, not paying attention to any destination, just wanting to be moving and thinking.

Blaine had seemed so much worst today than he had a few weeks ago. He had nearly fainted in the coffee shop when he'd tried to stand. It was obvious from his body that he ate little if anything regularly. It appeared he wasn't getting much sleep from the circles under his eyes and it seemed as though he'd gone through something terrible. He reacted violently to any touch or human contact, even from some one he used to trust completely. The boy he had known was full of smiles and bubbly laughter. This man was haunted - deeply affected by something from his past and was apparently barely hanging on.

Kurt hoped desperately that he hadn't had anything to do with the haunted look in his eyes. He was terrified he had something to do with the pain and fear that was evident in Blaine's reactions and his eyes. He'd only met Kurt's eyes for a few seconds, but Kurt had been able to pick it out that quickly. It couldn't be him really, it had been eight years. Surely Blaine had recovered from their high school romance in eight years. He tried to dismiss the idea that he'd had a hand in Blaine's state, but for some reason it kept eating at him. He couldn't figure it out; he felt immense guilt over this man whom he hadn't seen since they were both teenagers. He walked on, till he came to another park where he found a bench. He sat on the hard, cold wooden bench for an hour or so, thinking over their relationship so long ago.

A few tears came loose from his eyes as he thought over the happy times they'd had together, the light that had been in Blaine's eyes whenever he'd looked at Kurt, and the goofy grin he saved just for Kurt. Blaine had been the first person outside of his family to make him feel like he was worth something; he had treated Kurt as though he were made of the most precious of materials. Kurt's heart was breaking a little for that boy, who was now seemingly gone. The man who replaced him appeared nearly dead on the inside and Kurt longed to see the big goofy grin again with Blaine's dancing eyes meeting his and hear his laughter. It was all he wanted as he sat on the cold park bench, cheeks damp with tears.

**The next chapter is nearly finished as well, so I hope to post it soon! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, although it was super angsty! :-)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I couldn't believe the response to the last chapter! Thanks so much to all who reviewed! I love hearing your thoughts and suggestions and have really taken them to heart! To answer some of the questions I've gotten: There is a reason Kurt acted the way he did, you will find out in coming chapters :-) and fear not, Kurt won't get back in his life without a fight. This chapter does contain some serious angst with very little fluff mixed in. I hope you enjoy! **

* * *

><p>A few days later, Kurt made his way to his office through a misty early morning fog. He had always loved mornings like this; the fog muted the loud sounds and bright lights of the City and dulled the quickly rising sun. It made everything seem much more hushed and muted, private and quiet almost. He loved the sense of peace he found on mornings like this and he found a kind of beauty in it, like the City was protecting some of its secrets from the world. But on this particular morning despite the fog, his head was down and his eyes were on the sidewalk as he trudged on toward the office, finding no joy in the day. His mind was occupied by other things than the beauty of the morning.<p>

He'd been rather depressed since Blaine had snuck out of his apartment on Saturday. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was partially responsible for the condition Blaine was in currently. His mind seemed to always wander back to the other man no matter what he was doing. He had spent hours in that park Saturday afternoon, trying to figure out his feelings and understand the overwhelming feeling of guilt he was getting. He didn't understand it. He hadn't seen or spoken to Blaine in just about eight years. How could he possibly be responsible for anything that was going on with him now? But the thought continued to nag at him, knowing how he'd cut Blaine out of his life, it seemed that there might be some connection, as distasteful as that thought was.

Despite his worries regarding Blaine and their breakup, Kurt was able to come to some conclusions about his feelings towards him. Kurt did know that he felt completely drawn to the other man; he wanted to spend time with him and he was certain that he cared about him a lot.

As a hopeless romantic, he'd always believed that a person never really stop loving their first love. He wasn't sure if that was what he was feeling or if he really was still in love with Blaine after all these years. It was as if seeing him again, even in the condition he was in, or perhaps even more because of it, had awakened a part of him that he hadn't felt in a long time. He found it all very confusing. Kurt was sure that if he could spend some more time with him that he would be able to figure it out, but in order to do that he had to find Blaine again.

As much as he didn't want to, he the only other person that he felt he could bring Blaine up to was his brother. Finn had told him about a year after they had broken up that Blaine had contacted him and asked about Kurt. He knew Finn hadn't told Blaine much really because Kurt asked him to not tell Blaine where he was or what he was doing or even his new phone number. Finn had broken down and told him a little, but not much and definitely didn't give out his number.

Finn hadn't been very happy about Kurt's requests about his talking to Blaine. After his initial dislike of Blaine when he first transferred to McKinley, they had eventually become close friends. They had spent a lot of time together near the end of their senior year and over the summer before Kurt and Blaine had left for Chicago. Finn had been quiet about his opinion regarding them breaking up, and Kurt had always known it was because he didn't understand what had happened and was pissed off that Kurt had done it without much explanation to anyone and basically without warning. When he had called to tell his family back in Ohio, they had been expecting a very different phone call. They had been expecting Kurt to call with the news that he and Blaine were engaged, not that he had cut Blaine out of his life completely. It had shocked all of them, Finn especially, since he had spent so much time with the two men and he knew how close they really were.

But since Finn knew them both so well, or at least knew Kurt well and had known Blaine well in the past, he felt that Finn was his best option for advice without getting a complete lecture like he might get from Rachel or Mercedes. They were both still really good friends of his, but Kurt was so not ready to get an earful about his years-old break up from either of the girls.

So that day, at noon, he pulled his office door shut behind him, told the general secretary for all of the lower level editors he was leaving for lunch and made his way to a nearby park to make his phone call. The fog had lifted and the day seemed much brighter than it had that morning although the chill was still present in the air around him. He watched his breath come out in a cloud in front of him as he walked. He knew that Finn would be at work but that he should be able to at least have a short conversation. He found a bench that was in a relatively secluded area that blocked some of the fall breeze, but still had a bit of a view and called his brother.

"Hey Kurt, what's up man? Long time no talk!" Finn answered after nearly the first ring.

"Hey yourself! Well, not much, I guess, I did have something I wanted to talk with you about though, if you have a minute," He wanted to ease into this conversation as best he could. Finn knew if he got a call from Kurt in the middle of the day he more than likely had a reason and would get to the point fairly quickly. Any longer chats tended to happen after both of their work days were over.

"Sure I do! A couple of minutes, actually. What's going on, little bro?"

Kurt sighed. "Well, first, I'm older than you by a month. Enough with the little bro crap. Seriously, Finn." He took another deep breath. "I, um, I wanted to talk with you about, well, it's about Blaine." He paused apprehensively and listened for any reaction on the other end of the line.

The dead silence on the other end of the phone was difficult for Kurt to decipher. "You still there, Finn?" He asked after a moment or two of complete silence.

"Yeah." Finn hesitated and asked in a guarded tone, "What about Blaine, Kurt?"

"Well, I, uh, I ran into him the other day, here in the City, I mean. We talked a bit and quite frankly he looks dreadful and I was wondering if you had spoken to him recently." He started fiddling with the hem on his jacket nervous about where this conversation seemed to be headed.

"Not since that one time I told you about years ago, I haven't. What do you mean he looks dreadful? Where did you see him? Whole story, bro." Finn's voice had a warning tone to it that let Kurt know he'd better come clean about the whole situation if he wanted his brother's help or advice.

Kurt took another deep breath and told him about running into Blaine in the two coffee shops weeks apart. He filled him in on taking him back to his apartment to eat, how they fell asleep watching _Aladdin_ together and then Blaine's disappearing act. "And he basically looks like a skeleton - tired, exhausted really, his clothes don't come close to fitting, he couldn't meet my eyes and he acted terrified pretty much the whole time. I'm positive he hasn't been eating or taking care of himself. I'm really worried about him, Finn. So I'm trying to figure out what to do. I feel like I need to help him. I feel badly. About before, you know? And I really did care about him. I mean I love, loved him. And I can't seem to find him – it's like he wants to disappear."

"Can you blame him?" Finn spit out over the phone before he could stop himself. "I mean . . . I'm sorry, I love you, Kurt, but I can't blame him. Why are you worried about him after all this time? You weren't worried when you dumped him and he was inconsolable for weeks. He's survived this long without your help. You have no idea what your breakup did to him. All I know is that one phone call from him after you guys broke up was horrible from my end and I'm sure even worse from his. He was a complete wreck. He could barely even talk to me. You weren't there for the mess afterwards, remember? And who knows what has happened in his life since then. None of our friends have heard from him in years that I know of." Finn sighed, seemingly weary of this conversation. "Do you have any idea what brought him to the City?"

"He said something about passing the bar exam for New York and so he moved here. I really would like to find him. If nothing else, I'd like to finally apologize."

"You need to. He's deserved at least that for years." Finn's tone was still guarded and tight. He hated talking about Blaine with Kurt. He'd never gotten the full story of their breakup out of Kurt and had always wondered why they had gone from nearly engaged to nothing. Kurt had only provided him with partial answers at the time and completely clammed up about it when pressed. He had only asked him not to give Blaine his new number and not to tell him what was going on in his life if Blaine did reach out to him. It had put Finn in a very awkward situation and he didn't like it.

Kurt hated being chastised by his brother, but he knew Finn was completely justified in doing so. "Yeah, I know that now. Seeing him this way has pretty much, well I don't really know what's happening with my emotions, but it is tearing me up. I can't think about anything but finding him again." He confessed, hoping that Finn would understand his plea.

Finn audibly sighed into the phone. "Well, I don't know how much it will help, but I did keep his phone number when he called years ago. It's buried on my phone somewhere. I thought I might need it one day. It is like six or seven years old though, so no guarantees about whether or not it will work. I'll text it to you when we hang up. But, seriously dude, if he's as fragile as you say he appears, be careful. You tore him apart before with like no warning and I'm guessing less of an explanation that I even got. He's probably still pissed, even if it was a long time ago. So be careful. This is Blaine, man. _Blaine_. He meant the world to you once, trust me, I remember how much you two relied on each other. Don't hurt him again, he probably can't take it if he's as bad off as you say. Good luck, little bro, and I gotta get back to work. Call me later, k?"

"Alright. Thanks, Finn. I appreciate the help. Don't forget to text me the number and I promise to tread lightly. I don't want to hurt him or scare him, just to be friends again and see if I can help him out. You know? And, _seriously_ Finn, enough with the little bro crap! Say hi to dad and Carol for me?"

"Sure enough, little bro, later!" Kurt could hear the grin in Finn's voice as he hung up leaving the last "little bro" comment hanging in the air between them. He secretly loved it when Finn referred to him as his little brother. They'd been through so much together and after Finn had turned his back on him so much in high school, it felt as though he was making up for it. It made Kurt feel protected and loved in a way he hadn't before he gained a brother his junior year of high school.

He sat on the cold park bench and waited a bit longer until his phone notified him that he'd received a text. He pulled up his phone and read the message. "Courage, Kurt. Share yours with him and help him find his own. You owe him that at least." It was followed by Blaine's old number.

Kurt teared up at the text and he saved the number. He had a lot of thinking to do before he decided what to do with it. There was a good chance Blaine wasn't even on the other end of that number any more. He shook his head slowly back and forth, attempting to clear it and fight the tears back that were threatening. The last thing he needed was questions about his red-rimmed eyes when he got back to the office. He got up and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck to release some of the tension there. He heaved a sigh and headed back towards his office building with a heavy heart, his mind working out how he wanted to find Blaine.

* * *

><p>Blaine had woken up on the floor of his apartment, next to his couch early on Sunday morning. He'd become accustom to sleeping on the floor a lot in the previous few years and it seemed to be a hard habit to break. He was still getting used to the idea that he could hog the whole bed or even stay on the couch the whole night. He groaned and stretched his weak muscles that were tight from the awkward position he'd moved into in his sleep.<p>

He got up and hiked up his pajama pants that tended to fall down and went into his kitchen. It wasn't really dirty, just mainly unused. He'd been there since late May, but the little that he had brought with him was mostly still in boxes. He didn't really have the energy or the desire to unpack much. He made some crappy instant coffee and warmed it in the microwave. The heat form the cup warmed his always frigid hands.

He would try to make it through the rest of the weekend as best he could. Weekends were bad because there was little to distract him from the shambles his life was in. He occasionally would go into work just to have something else to think about but he also would self-medicate with alcohol.

He knew he couldn't stand living the way he had for the past couple of years much longer. He barely had any energy anymore and he could tell from the look in Kurt's eyes he looked even worse than he thought. He gripped his coffee tightly as he stared into it, leaned against his countertop where it cut into the skin at his hip. He had to do something and this time it couldn't be the alcohol – it wasn't working as well as it had two years ago. He could still remember things through it now and nothing was dulling the pain in his heart the way he wanted it to be.

Blaine couldn't really believe that he'd existed this way - in a numbness of being unnoticeable and easily overlooked basically since he and Alex had broken up about three years ago. _Wow, had it been that long ago?_ _It had been October of 2017 when we broke up, so yes about three years ago. _He shook his head in disbelief at the thought.

He hadn't dated anyone after he and Alex had broken up. No one would want him anyway. Nobody had even looked at him twice, included the few times he'd ventured out to a nearby gay bar. Nobody wanted him; nobody talked to him and nobody even saw him. It was like their eyes just glanced over him, as if he was invisible in his chair. Eventually he learned that he liked the blending in, he liked his ability to disappear in plain sight. Alex had taught him that he wasn't really worth looking at twice and he had been right. Kurt had lied to him when he said he was beautiful or handsome. He wasn't – he wasn't anything, just another invisible, disposable person.

Blaine knew he was damaged; he was well aware of the fact that he wasn't worth anything. There was no escaping that fact for him. He had to try ridiculously hard at work to make his worthlessness disappear in order to go to work and seem even semi normal. He had to cover up the loser that he was so that he could even have a job and keep it. He hated himself even more for it because he was constantly terrified he would do something even dumber than usual and someone would actually look at him and see through his mask of capability as an attorney and fire him on the spot.

His coffee was growing cold and he looked at his watch, realizing he had spent over an hour leaned against his counter. He put his mug in the sink and made his way back to the couch. He was still so tired and his stomach was beyond hunger, to the point that it was just a dull ache in his middle. The stomach ache matched the one in his back from sleeping on the floor. He didn't have anything to eat in his apartment though, and had absolutely no interest in getting dressed enough to go find something at a local restaurant. He was used to the aches by now though and just ignored them.

Blaine grabbed his blanket off the floor and pulled it around his thin shoulders. He picked his stuffed penguin up off the floor too and cuddled into it, hugging it to his chest. He'd had the penguin a long time; it had been dubbed "Albus" and it was ratty and worn in places, but it was his. Blaine turned his face into it and breathed deeply, hoping some of the faint smell of the man who had given it to him still remained. He didn't know if he imagined it, but he thought he could catch a small trace of Dolce & Gabbana's Light Blue on the stuffed animal. _Kurt_. The little penguin had witnessed a lot of Blaine's life. As he sat there, curled in his blanket but still slightly shivering, clinging to his penguin more of the memories he'd been able to suppress until he'd ran into Kurt broke free. He buried his face in Albus as the memory washed over him and his tears silently slid down his face.

"_God, I can't sleep with you next to me. It's too hot. Get the hell out of my bed. Sleep on the floor or leave. I have to go to work early tomorrow and I have to get some sleep." Alex whispered sharply in Blaine's ear as he shoved off of him and pulled out of Blaine's ass. _

_Blaine's head hung low and his ears burned in embarrassment; this situation had become a common occurrence. He was very sore after what they had just done. It wasn't like they did it a lot, but when they did it was never about him. _

_This time, Alex hadn't even bothered with prep or lube, Blaine realized as he grimaced from the pain after he pulled out. Usually he made an effort to do one or the other, so it was easier on himself; mostly there was lube and no prep. He liked Blaine better that way. Blaine reached down and pulled up his boxers, wincing as he pulled them over his hips, covering himself back up; covering the bruising fingerprints that were just starting to show right above the crest of his hip bones. His cock was still hard and he was careful to ease his boxers over his leaking cock as well. He had gotten hard tonight towards the end but he hadn't worked fast enough to get himself off. If he was even lucky enough to be turned on by what they did, it was Blaine's responsibility to get himself off before Alexander came. Tonight he hadn't managed in time._

_If it was like tonight, when he did get turned on by the end, it was almost worse. Now he was still painfully hard, but Alexander had no intention of helping him out. Blaine getting any pleasure out of what Alex did to him was his responsibility. Alex couldn't care less either way. It was his fault he didn't take care of himself that tonight, so why should Alex care. Blaine wasn't worth trying to get off. His pleasure didn't matter. _

_Alex had explained to Blaine many times how since he was the bottom in their relationship he needed to be good for Alex, not the other way around. Blaine could do it to himself later if he really needed to but that always made him feel disgusting. He hated having to leave his boyfriend's bed to go in the bathroom to relieve himself on his own. It made him feel dirty and used as he stood in the glaring light of the bathroom rubbing one out while the pain in his ass reinforced that Alex wasn't there for him like he was for Alex. So tonight, like so many nights before, Blaine ignored his aching cock and the pain in his abused ass and grabbed the folded blanket from its position on the foot of the bed. He found one of his stuffed animals, a penguin named Albus, kicked under Alex's bed. He tucked it partially under his head so he could cuddle it and use it for a pillow and he curled up on the rug on the floor beside Alex's bed._

"_And don't you dare try to go out there and sleep on the couch again, Blaine." He felt Alex's foot nudge him in almost an out-right kick to make sure he was awake and listening. "If I wake up and find you out there I won't be happy. My flatmate doesn't need to think we have problems. I'm not going to have him questioning me about that again. So you'll sleep on the floor or get the fuck out." _

"_Ok, Alex," Blaine acknowledged him in a small voice. He looked up at the bright red numbers flashing on the clock by Alexander's bedside. It was just after midnight and Blaine had an early morning the next day as well. His Contracts class was going to be a nightmare session and he had finals to start thinking about too. He sighed and figured he'd get to sleep longer if he stayed where he was. He pulled the stuffed penguin into his chest and cuddled it, breathing in its comforting smell, slowly falling asleep as he listened to Alexander's snores from above. _

_It was another restless night, one that Blaine's grades paid dearly for. He was called on in class, as he had dreaded and wasn't quick enough with the answer. "Mr. Anderson, if you wish to remain in my class, you will keep up with the reading and pay attention. Please speak with me at the end of the lecture." His professor had shown him no mercy. Finals were only two weeks away and it was obvious he was not prepared to the level he heeded to be. _

_He slumped in his chair, avoiding the professor's eyes for the rest of class. The last hour of class went by extremely slowly, Blaine trying his hardest to pay attention. Once dismissed, Blaine waited until the rest of the class left to pick up his things and go speak with the professor. _

"_Mr. Anderson, I hope you understand that this semester is coming to a close. Not only has your attendance slipped, but your class participation has as well. That's only 5% of your grade, but participation leads to understanding. The rest of your grade, as with the rest of your classes, is based on the final exam. We're preparing you for real life in the courtroom, Mr. Anderson and you need to behave like it." _

_His professor sighed and tried to get him to meet his eyes. "You showed such promise in the beginning of this class. If you need more assistance, let me know, but don't come to my class as unprepared as you were today ever again. Is that clear?" _

"_Yes sir," Blaine nodded and mumbled an apology, refusing to raise his eyes above his professor's bow tie. "Thank you, it won't happen again." He spun and left as quickly as he could. He pulled out his phone as he left the classroom and noticed that there were two missed calls and several text messages, all from Alexander. Crap. He hurriedly read the messages which were a list of things for him to do before he got over to his boyfriend's apartment that night._

Blaine wiped his eyes and he drug his mind out the shameful memory. Alex was gone. Kurt was gone. He was alone. He had to get back to the numbness – without it he couldn't cope with himself and his past. He slowly got up and turned on his TV. He carefully selected one of his favorite older movies, _Hope Floats_. Despite the horrible hair and clothes, and the fact that both Kurt and Alex hated the film with a passion, Blaine still loved it. The depression that laced through the plot comforted him as well as the message that at some point it might just get better, or at least less awful. If Sandra Bullock could get through her shitty life maybe he could too. He got sucked into the movie and drifted off eventually, arms wrapped tightly around Albus the Penguin.

* * *

><p><strong>Please don't hate me for Alex. I know he's an asshole. I really hope I did Finn justice. I love him in the brother role. I take all suggestions seriously and love to hear your thoughts, dear readers! Next chapter will be coming soon! I can't seem to stop writing this one!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Each and every review is so awesome! I appreciate everyone who alerts, sends me a message or leaves a review! You're all the absolute dearest! :-) I hope you enjoy this installment. No specific warnings in this one, less graphic than the last, I promise! I totally forgot to mention that for the purposes of this story, I follow canon, except for the fact that I have Blaine and Kurt graduating together. I had to, otherwise this didn't work as well. Memories/thoughts are in italics. Enjoy!**

Blaine managed through the rest of the weekend on a diet of instant coffee and some alcohol. He got himself up and dressed by Sunday afternoon and wandered out to a nearby sandwich shop and ordered a sub sandwich to go. The glaring sunlight caused him to blink hard and gave him a strong headache. Once back in his apartment, he spent the rest of the day on the couch picking at his sandwich and watching whatever random show came on his small tv.

Monday morning he made it up with time to spare and took a quick shower, washing off the weekend of wallowing in his emotions. He looked himself in the eyes through the mirror for the first time in a long time and promised himself that he would get through this week, then the next and the one after that. He could get back at least to where he had been if he worked at it.

The rest of Monday came and went without too much fuss. He managed to be overlooked at the weekly attorney's meeting and did his work in the quiet of his office without notice. By Tuesday, his life was already headed back towards his normal numbness. In fact it was starting to improve – he had turned in some of his contracts and motions earlier than expected and actually got some praise from his supervising attorney. Wednesday followed suit and although it wasn't much, he actually ate a whole sandwich that day without any of it coming back up later. He made it three whole days without having to get drunk in order to fall asleep. Progress was being made.

But he wasn't ready for the shock that happened Thursday after work. His cell phone rang about 7 pm, just as he was getting home from the office and dropping his satchel by the door. It was a New York number, but one his phone didn't recognize. He hated getting calls from clients at night but since he practiced family law, he got many on the nights and weekends. Even if he couldn't keep his own life together, he liked helping others hang onto theirs.

"Hello, this is Blaine Anderson," he answered. Usually he'd let it go to voicemail and then listen to see if it was anything he needed to address right away, but he was in a decent mood and took a chance that the call wouldn't last long. There was a long enough pause before the other person spoke that he pulled the phone from his ear to see if the line was still connected, which it was.

"Um, hi Blaine it's me, Kurt. Please don't hang up. Please."

Blaine's fingers promptly forgot how to work and he dropped his phone. "Shit!" He pushed a chair out of the way and reached for it where it had skittered under his kitchen table. He grabbed a hold of it and put it back up to his ear. "What do you want?" He asked shortly, his voice and mood already dropping. He wanted nothing more than to hang up. His good mood was destroyed; he could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat. It was a good thing he hadn't eaten that day; if he had, it would be all over the floor now. He started eying his spot on the couch, not wanting to hear Kurt's voice a second longer than he needed to and instantly desperate to curl up in a ball under a blanket.

"Well, I'm calling because you never called after we ran into each other the first time and then you left my place before we could really talk. I was hoping we could get together. I have some things I'd like to talk with you about and I'd really like to catch up with you more."

"Why? What use is there?" He paused trying to steady his voice before it wavered into the phone and gave him away as being upset. "How did you get my number anyway? I don't – I don't think it's a very good idea, Kurt. I mean, it's been so many years and anything you wanted to say you could have said long ago. And besides won't it upset your boyfriend or partner or whatever if you're meeting up with an ex?" He huffed into the phone; his "word vomit" problem was evidencing itself. Sometimes he just couldn't stop the flow of words coming out of his mouth before he truly thought about what he was saying.

And besides, how _did_ Kurt have his number? Had he kept it all these years? Blaine had made a point not to change his number in the beginning because he wanted it to be the same on the off chance that Kurt had needed him, he wanted him to be able to find him. And then, years later he never consciously decided not to change it, he just never got around to it. _Geez, I really am pathetic_, he thought.

"I called Finn and he still had your number from when you called him a few years ago. He gave it to me and I chanced that it would be the same. I really just want to talk with you. It won't take long if you don't want it to. And it won't matter to anyone that I'm meeting up with you because I'm single. I can do what I want to do, and I just want to meet up with you for dinner or something. Please, Blaine. Please," Kurt tried to keep the pleading out of his voice but it cut through with an undeniable undertone that he was sure Blaine would recognize.

Blaine sighed. He was reeling from this information. He had fully expected Kurt to be in a long term committed relationship by now. That had been part of what was eating him up from the inside out – he had imagined that not only was Kurt working at his dream job, but that he had the perfect partner and maybe even some kids by now who had just happened to be out when he was over there. But perhaps his life wasn't perfect now either. How did he really feel about meeting up with him? He was struggling to find a reason not to. If nothing else he might get some answers after all these years. "Fine. I guess I can meet up with you." His tone was steely and cold, but sounded weak in his ears, his resolve broken. "When were you thinking?"

"Wonderful, Blaine. Thank you," Kurt put as much meaning into those words as he could. He was so grateful to even see him again. He needed Blaine to be open to him at least a little so that he could figure out what had happened to the other man. "How about lunch on Saturday? I don't know where you live so why don't you pick a place and we'll meet there?" He wanted to give Blaine as much control in the situation as he could. Blaine could then pick a place that would serve them fast or one he felt really comfortable in. He wasn't sure why, but Kurt felt like giving him the choice was important. He was trying to tread very lightly around Blaine, already knowing that he was quite skittish from the way he behaved the last two times he'd seen him.

"Um, yeah lunch on Saturday would work," He paused. Blaine wasn't sure what to say for a place to meet. He almost never went to restaurants for several reasons, but mainly because he really never ate and when he did he was alone so he didn't feel like going out. He hadn't been out in a sit-down restaurant in years. "_We're going to Clarice's Diner, I told you I hate that other place you picked. Why are you so stupid that you can't even remember simple things like that? You're so worthless._ _You can fucking stay home for all I care, and then I wouldn't have to feed your fat ass."_ His mind snapped back to the present and his conversation with Kurt. "I guess, um, there's a little café near the Starbucks we met in. It's across the street and down one store front. I can't remember the name, but do you know it?"

Blaine could hear the smile in Kurt's voice when he replied, "Yes, I do. That's a lovely little café. What time would work best for you?"

For a second time in their short conversation, Blaine was taken aback for being actually asked his opinion. He stuttered out an answer, "Well, um, how about 11:30? If that works."

"That's perfect, Blaine. I'll see you Saturday at 11:30 in the little café with the forgotten name," Kurt replied, "And Blaine? Thank you. So much. Have a great night!"

"Goodbye," Blaine whispered into the phone, remembering the last time he'd talked to Kurt on the phone he didn't even get to tell him goodbye because he had been crying so hard he couldn't get words out. Somehow though, by the end of this conversation with Kurt he felt a lot better about seeing him. He was actually not dreading seeing him again. Instead of going towards his usual beer, he filled a glass with ice tea and sat at his table, staring in disbelief at his phone.

He went through the motions of saving Kurt's number to his phone after he thought about it for a while. Years of not seeing the familiar name come up on his cell and now knowing it was in there made his heart ache. For the first time in eight years he had the ability to actually call Kurt if he wanted to and he would probably even answer. It was an amazing thought – one that was a bit mind boggling.

He moved to settle himself on the couch, laid out with his head resting on Albus the penguin, curls tumbling loosely and stared at the ceiling. His mind was racing with questions. He couldn't quite grasp why Kurt wanted to talk to him so badly, especially now. What had made him want to be back in Blaine's life? Did he even want to be back in Blaine's life, or was he just seeking him out for some momentary need?

After contemplating the reasons behind Kurt's insistence in seeing him, it occurred to Blaine that he had the opportunity to plan before Kurt saw him this time and he sure didn't want to look as badly as he did the last two times he'd run into Kurt with no warning. The last time he had been wearing one of Alex's old sweaters that was way too big on him, although most of Blaine's clothes were way too big on him. He pulled himself up off the couch and started to look through his closet. Weekends he usually didn't even get dressed unless he was going out to get coffee or something to eat, so he didn't have a lot of casual clothes that were nice.

He pulled several outfits out of his closet trying to decide what would be the best to wear to lunch on Saturday. He finally narrowed it down to a choice between a navy button down with a dark sweater vest and jeans and a decent henley in cream with jeans. He tried them both on, avoiding looking at his changing form in the full length mirror that was on the back of his bedroom door.

He already knew he was thin; he didn't need to be reminded of it all the time. Both outfits were large on him, but the sweater vest ensemble covered up his obviously too-thin frame better – the bumps of his spine could be seen through the henley. He really didn't want to draw that much attention to that particular problem. He took the sweater vest and dress shirt back off and pulled on his pajama pants for the rest of the evening, folding his outfit to be ready for Saturday.

He settled back on the couch, realizing that tomorrow would be torture at work because it would be impossible to concentrate while he worried about his meeting with Kurt the next day. He just wanted it over with. He refused to get his hopes up that Kurt wanted anything to do with him more than to talk. He tried to control his emotions as he stared up at the dingy ceiling of his apartment. He knew he wasn't worth even Kurt giving him the time of day, let alone anything else. He was disposable, only good for something when Kurt or someone else wanted something from him.

Blaine could remember a time when it wasn't like this. He could remember when he was happy and the littlest thing didn't set him off into a tailspin of despair and self-loathing. He could remember when he didn't constantly worry about being noticed, because then there was nothing wrong with being noticed. He remembered people liking him and loving the rush of performing on stage. He remembered what it felt like to be loved by Kurt – being made to feel so special that nothing else in the world mattered. But remembering all of those things made his life much more difficult now. Although they were memories of better days, they made him miserable because they forced him to see how different he was now.

It had been such a gradual change he didn't notice it at first. He'd been such a wreck after Kurt had broken up with him that he didn't even look at other people. Blaine concentrated on making it from one moment to the next, not even looking towards days and weeks passing, but concentrating on the second hand moving around the face of his watch. It was all he could think about, getting through those next few seconds and how even if he did Kurt still wouldn't be there. And then after two years of horror, of being alone and realizing how much Kurt had to hate him for whatever it was he had done, he met Alex.

The memories of early part of his relationship with Alex eroded away his resolve to not delve into that part of his life and the tears started to form at the corners of his eyes as he recalled the tall, black-haired man who had destroyed the last of what made Blaine, Blaine. He had been a classically handsome man and that was what had drawn Blaine to him in the beginning, although it was more him being drawn to Blaine. Blaine hadn't even really meant to end up with him, it just sort of happened.

_He came back to the dorm from his home in Westerville, back to his single dorm room in the upperclassmen hall. It was a mixed gender floor of all single rooms. It was his first day back on campus after the winter holidays and he was just getting settled back into his room, organizing things for the new semester. He had propped his door open and had been calling out greetings to his friends as they wandered back, happy to see them after almost three weeks of being apart for the winter holidays. _

_Blaine noticed as he brought his stuff up from his car that the guy who had the room across from him had apparently moved out. The bulletin board on Scott's door had been cleaned off and there was a new name on it. Nobody really left those up too long, so he figured the new person probably hadn't even fully moved in yet. He continued to clean and put his clothes away from his trip home until he heard the door across the hall to Scott's old room open. _

_He stood up and looked out into the hallway. Outside Scott's old door was standing a tall and semi-attractive man with the blackest hair he'd ever seen on a white guy and he was very white – nearly ethereally so, very similar in skin tone to Kurt. At the reminder of his ex, Blaine's heart pained. They'd been broken up now for just about two and a half years, but any reminder or mention of him still caused a raw pain to his heart. Once Blaine had recovered enough to speak, he smiled at the man and just said, "Hey, you must be the new guy. I'm Blaine." He offered his hand to the other man in a friendly gesture. Blaine couldn't quite meet his eyes, fearing they would be the same blue as Kurt's, but it didn't seem to faze the other man._

"_My name's Alexander, Alex for short if you like. Yeah, I just moved in a few hours ago. Transfer student, you know. It's nice to meet you." He shook Blaine's hand calmly and squeezed maybe a bit too hard. "Do you know where we can get some food in this joint? I'm starved from moving in." _

"_Shu-sure. Um, let me just grab a coat and I'll show you where the dining hall is. I guess I could eat as well." _

_They had hit it off right away as they talked over dinner and then into the night. They discovered that they had weirdly similar lives and were very passionate about the same kinds of things. Alex had grown up just across the river in Kentucky, only a few hours from Westerville and Lima and had transferred to Chicago from Ohio State. He was also loved to sing and was quite good but his high school didn't have a very good glee club so he hadn't had the opportunities Blaine had in that area. _

_Alexander was nice enough, but didn't light the spark in him that Kurt had despite the vague similarities they had in looks. Although Kurt had been taller than Blaine, that was nothing compared to the way Alex towered over him by a good six inches. They discovered a mutual love for writing music on the spot, although Blaine preferred his guitar and Alex was nearly attached to his keyboard. Their parents did similar things for a living and the boys discovered that even their middle names were the same, Everett. They started hanging out more together, since they had so much in common and they lived right across from each other. They had dinner together nearly every night, studied together and were basically inseparable._

Blaine opened his eyes and fought off the memories of meeting Alex. Sure he'd seemed fine in the beginning, but things changed. Or he changed, he wasn't sure. Alex had always said it had been Blaine who had changed, who had made their relationship fail, but he hadn't been sure lately if that was really what had happened.

Looking back at it now, even at their first meeting, Alex was overly controlling, assuming even though he didn't ask, that Blaine was free to show him around and that he also was ready to head off to the dining hall. Alex had never asked, really; never considered Blaine's wants or needs. Not like Kurt had done. Not like Kurt just _did_, he corrected himself in his thoughts. Kurt had asked him where he wanted to go, when he wanted to go, like what he thought actually mattered to another person. The corners of his mouth started to tug up in a little bit of a smile at the thought.

* * *

><p>Kurt stared at his phone that was still in his hand. He couldn't believe that the old number from Finn had worked and that Blaine had actually answered. Sure he had sounded angry and hurt, but they were still going to meet up for lunch the day after tomorrow. He grinned and wrapped his arms around his sides, hugging himself. He truly couldn't believe that Blaine was going to meet with him willingly. He really needed to figure out what he wanted to say to him. He felt almost giddy at the thought of seeing the other man, but extremely nervous as well. If the phone call was any indication, Blaine was going to be very much on the defensive.<p>

He sent a quick text to Finn to let him know that the number worked and he had talked to Blaine. His phone buzzed not a few seconds later "Cool bro. Just be careful with him." Sometimes his step-brother knew exactly what he was thinking.

He looked through his closet trying to decide what was appropriate to wear to meet up with your ex eight years after you trample them to bits and decided that _humble_ would be a good look. He didn't want anything too flashy or out there because it was apparent from the way Blaine had looked the first time they met that even though he was an attorney he didn't spend tons of money on his clothes. Kurt didn't want to make him feel out of place when they were together or underdressed in anyway.

Kurt couldn't get the image of Blaine walking away from him hunched over, clothes hanging from his slight frame. He couldn't wait to see him again, even if he was going through something terrible. Blaine had always meant so much to him and he never regretted anything more than what he had done to cause them to end their relationship. _No_, he corrected himself. _What I did that afterwards I was too much of a coward to face him again_ _even to break up with him_. He needed to make this right, even if it meant opening up old wounds and working through the self-analysis that he had avoided all those years ago.

He knew now that Blaine was worth going through what he had to deal with in his own mind, even if he was too much of a coward to do so when he was younger. He sighed and picked an outfit of dark skinny jeans, a couple matching long-sleeved henleys, a dark vest to match the jeans and a grey scarf to match and topped it off with a page-boy cap. He would worry about more accessories on Saturday. Now he just had to figure out what he was going to say to Blaine. He flopped down across his bed and stared at the ceiling fan while he contemplated where to even begin.

**A/N: I hope you liked this little installment. Next up is their meeting on Saturday and you'll get some more clues as to what happened eight years ago. I love reviews and take all your suggestions to heart, so if you have a suggestion (or six), or you just want to comment, I'd love to hear it!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I apologize for the wait. I had a huge project at work that required my attention about 15hrs a day and then the holidays showed up. So to make it up to you all, here is my longest chapter to date, coming in at right around 5,000 words. I love reviews, but it seems I can't make everyone happy, although I do try and I love all your suggestions. I am simply overwhelmed at the response this story has gotten. Please continue to send me your ideas, reviews, and thoughts! And, Tinybees, I got your review this morning and it was just the kick-in-the-pants I needed to get this chapter done, so Thank you! I'm still unbeta'ed so sorry for typos. If anyone wants the job, I'd love to have the help! Enjoy . . . **

Kurt spent the rest of Thursday night laid out on his bed contemplating what to say to Blaine when they met up on Saturday. He hadn't really been thinking when he suggested a day so close; he had a lot to get through in his mind before Saturday morning arrived.

He had missed Blaine fiercely in the beginning; he had half dialed his number dozens of times in that first month, wanting so desperately to hear his voice. He'd stared at the numbers, hating that he couldn't call the only person in the world who could make him feel better. He hated himself for ruining everything in one stupid night. So he spent much of the first month without Blaine alone in his dorm room drinking, giving his phone to a roommate so that he couldn't drunk dial Blaine. It was horrible, what he had done. And he'd taken the one person other than his family who loved him above all else and had cut him out of his life.

His heart felt as though he had slowly and meticulously cut it into two pieces, the largest of which still stayed with Blaine despite everything he tried. He was grateful that he'd blocked Blaine on Facebook; he was certain that Blaine was moving on and he couldn't take seeing pictures of him or messages from anyone else indicating as much. The ban on talking was as much for his benefit as it was for Blaine's.

He no longer deserved someone who was as open and honest and loving as Blaine was and for that he had to punish himself. His actions proved that he wasn't worthy of the gorgeous, talented Blaine Anderson. And so Kurt cut him out of his life, forcing himself to live without the one thing, the one person who made him truly happy.

_I don't know that I can do it yet. I can't even get the words out to myself, how would I get them out to Blaine? I just need to see him, to tell him how sorry I am, to see if I can help. _If Kurt were very honest with himself, he would have known that helping Blaine was also helping himself. That he was trying to heal a years-old wound in both of them that hadn't healed in either one.

Kurt fell asleep that night with the box of mementos from their relationship spread all around him. The pictures laying haphazardly across his legs and the bedspread, the ribbon from the flowers Blaine had given him, the boutonnieres from prom, everything he had kept and held onto all these years that screamed _Blaine_ to him each time he braved to open the box.

He cleaned up the mess quickly in the morning, trying not to stare at each and every glance of Blaine comparing him to the man he had so recently seen. Glimpses of Blaine's former self could be seen in him, but for the most part his personality seemed to be completely gone or changed. It was heartbreaking to see the man who had been the boy he loved so ferociously be so different and seem so defeated.

As he fit everything back in its box, the same phrase repeated itself over and over in his mind, "_One day you will wake up with nothing but your sorrys". _It was too true, too honest. As he put the last picture in the box, one of him and Blaine in their matching Dalton uniforms, grinning at each other, legs crossed over the other's, lost in their own little world, the tears started to stream down his cheeks. He never knew how close to home that line from _Candles_ was until now.

Kurt made it through his day, appreciative that Friday was a short work day this week and he was able to go back to his apartment earlier on Friday afternoon than he usually did. Work had been relatively easy, not requiring much of his mind. He'd only had to finish a few short blurbs and review a few others and he'd been able to accomplish that completely distracted by thoughts of his ex. Once he got home, he fussed with his apartment, cleaning non-existent messes just to keep himself busy and his mind slightly occupied and distracted. He had only a few hours of busy work before he was forced to sit down since he had nothing left to do unless he wanted to clean out his refrigerator again.

He checked the clock and realized it was coming up on seven and decided to allow himself a very rare glass of wine. He chose a pinot noir and popped out the cork. He let the wine breathe while he fixed a salad that would complement the flavors in the wine and set the table for one.

The wine tasted heavy on his tongue, the oaky after flavor hanging in his mouth. It reminded him of Blaine for some reason, finally realizing it was a very similar wine to the one they had shared on their first 'wine night' in college. He didn't think he'd ever forget all of the different, gorgeous smiles his ex had, but his silly grin after a few glasses of wine was one Kurt was absolutely certain was branded on his heart. They'd shared a bottle, and started a second, giggling as their lips tinged red with the wine, their kisses tasting strongly of wine, half-lidded eyes staring lovingly at the other boy.

It burned a bit in the back of his throat as he swallowed. He swirled the glass, watching the wine swirl, letting his mind wander back to a time that he hated thinking about. He would have to tell Blaine what he'd done if he wanted to gain back his trust, but he didn't even know where to start. It was all so complicated. If he hadn't been such an idiot eight years before and every day since and actually contacted Blaine, maybe Blaine wouldn't be in the situation he was in now, whatever it was.

That thought was almost too much to handle. He was starting to understand that there was a good possibility that he had something to do with Blaine's issues once he let himself think about it. It broke his heart to contemplate his role in all this. His intent when he'd forced Blaine out of his life was to save him the grief of being with him, but it was starting to appear that he'd made everything so much worst.

He finished his salad slowly, savoring the quiet time by himself. He put his dishes in his dishwasher and carried his wine into his living room, refilling it before he left the kitchen. He settled back on the couch, glancing at the place Blaine had occupied just a few days before. His heart panged in his chest and he was again reminded of how much he still missed Blaine's presence in his life.

When Blaine got up Saturday morning, he'd barely gotten any sleep. He'd woken up on the floor yet again after starting the night on the couch and hated himself for it. Alex had been out of his life for nearly three years and he still had control over him and his subconscious. It was sick and Blaine was finally starting to fully realize just how wrong that was.

The past day and a half had been tougher than the beginning of his week had been. His feelings undulated between being excited to see Kurt again, being absolutely terrified and being angry at both Kurt and himself. He felt like his emotions were on a wild ride and he was forced along against his will. They vacillated minute to minute even and he practically had to bury himself in his office's library so he didn't bite anyone's head off or cry in front of anyone. Both extremes would have drawn attention to him and that was simply unacceptable.

He had missed Kurt so much in the past eight years that the thought of him and what they had had almost become the golden standard against which everything else was measured. And nothing even came close. Despite this, he knew that Kurt had hurt him terribly without warning and so the best thing that had ever happened to him had really been a lie. Their relationship had been fake and not worth anything to Kurt evidently, because if it had surely he couldn't have dropped Blaine so quickly. It was a strange feeling to value something so much and for so long that another person thought was total crap.

Blaine had distracted himself the best he could at work on Friday, and even worked late into the night hoping to tire himself out so that he could sleep but it hadn't worked. He was stiff from the floor Saturday morning and still had hours to burn until the appointed time to meet Kurt. He felt as though he was moving towards an execution – time seemed to tick by so slowly and zoom past him at the same time. He wished it wouldn't ever be 11:30 but he also couldn't wait to get it over with. He took a long shower, scrubbing himself until his skin had a pink tinge to it. Drying himself off, he avoided the mirror yet again, thankful that the steam fogged it enough that his naked reflection couldn't be seen.

He ran a brush through his curls before shaking them out into their usual mess on top of his head. He ruffled it with both hands and ran some light gel through it just to tame it a little bit. He was still getting used to having his hair longer after Alex had made him keep it short for years. It had taken a while to grow out, but it was finally starting to fall in ringlets like it had when he was younger.

He had hated the buzz cut that Alex had made him keep his hair in, but he had always said that Blaine looked like a baby or a hippie with his curls longer and loose. _You look like an idiot. How could anyone take you seriously with that absurd hair? What are you a toddler or a law student? You look like a god-damned hippie if nothing else. You will shave it off and since it curls so ridiculously it'll have to be a buzz cut if you're actually going to look like a man._ He hadn't bothered to cut his hair after they had broken up except maybe a trim or two after a year or so to keep it in check, but it was the first thing he had done on his own direct opposition of something Alex had required of him. And he liked it.

Once his hair was dry, he lounged around for a while contemplating what was going to happen at 11:30. Dread overwhelmed him and he wasn't sure he would be able to push himself out the door. This was the man who broke his heart so completely that it was nearly impossible to come back from. The man who didn't care enough to contact him in eight years. And after a single phone call he was going to jump up and do what he wanted. It should have made him angry, but instead he was just depressed and felt even more worthless than he had for the past few weeks and even years.

He finally made a cup of instant coffee and started to get dressed. His muscles ached and he tired himself out more with all his worrying. He finally glanced in the mirror once he was dressed. The sweater vest he'd picked out was quite big on him, but at least it helped cover his concave stomach and bony shoulders. The second layer over the dress shirt prevented his spine from showing through. He had to pull his belt in an extra couple of notches, but the pants looked alright. His eyes were a bit sunken, and the lines of his face more pronounced than they had been, but he still looked satisfactory he thought. He briefly considered going back and completely gelling his hair down, but he did like it free and curly so he decided to leave it the way it was.

Blaine picked up his glasses off of his dresser and settled the light gunmetal grey frames on his face. He usually worn contacts but liked hiding behind the glasses. It was really cloudy outside or he would have gone with his usual sunglasses. They were even better for hiding behind. But today his eyes were itchy and dry from crying the night before and he didn't want them to be even more red during their meeting, so he opted for his glasses. He felt less exposed if there was something covering part of his face, especially his eyes because he knew they were very expressive and he was terrible at hiding his emotions in them. Kurt had always been good at reading him and he felt like he needed a line of defense between Kurt and his tell-tale eyes.

He grabbed a jacket out of the little closet near his door and zipped it up to his chin. He inevitably got cold this time of year no matter what he wore, so he grabbed some gloves as well. He pulled the door shut behind him, the slight bang making him jump. He was getting truly nervous now, not really believing that he'd actually made the decision to willingly meet the man who had started him down his path of destruction. He looked up at the ceiling in a silent plea with himself for strength. His hands were already shaking and clammy and he was grateful for the gloves so others couldn't see him shaking. He leaned his head against the closed door to his apartment, squeezing his eyes shut and willing the day to be over. No matter what Kurt had to tell him it wasn't going to be worth going through this.

But he had said he would go, and if nothing else, Blaine was a man of his word. He sighed and started to walk down the hallway. He checked his watch and discovered he was just in time to walk the few blocks to the café across the street from the Starbucks he'd last seen Kurt in. _Now or never_. He checked his phone on his way, as more of a distraction than anything else, since the only people who ever contacted him were from work. He scrolled through Twitter, looking for anything interested and appreciated the fact that while he just looked engrossed in his phone; it meant that he didn't have to look at any of the other passersby. They also couldn't look at him and see how terrified he was.

As he got closer to the café, he put his phone away in the front pocket of his jacket. He passed a store window and he glanced at himself, straightening his shoulders. Despite how much he wanted to have this meeting over and done with, and as much as he just wanted to disappear, he truly didn't want to appear completely weak and helpless in front of Kurt. He had already done that last two times they had met and he didn't need to remind Kurt of how pathetic he really was. For good measure he stuck his chin out a little and refused to look down for a few seconds. _There, that's better_. He could at least make it through this meeting with a little dignity.

)))))

Kurt was already in the little café, waiting. He had shown up about half an hour early, hoping he hadn't miss-remembered the time they were to meet. He'd also wanted to get there early enough to request the table he wanted, back in a corner and slightly secluded. It would give them more of a sense of being alone but still public enough it wouldn't make Blaine uncomfortable.

He took the chair to the right, leaving the one close to the wall for Blaine. Both chairs faced sideways, so they'd both have a view of the door. After a few minutes of feeling unsure of himself, he ordered them both a coffee, requesting the waitress bring it when the other man arrived.

She was friendly and offered him a smile at the request. The waitress set down two waters, one in front of Kurt and one in front of the chair across the small round table from him. "Boyfriend?" She'd asked him.

"Ex actually. It's a bit of a situation, I believe," Kurt had replied with a sigh and an awkward half smile. She seemed to understand his nervousness and smiled sympathetically in return. 

"Gotcha. Let me know if you need anything else. I'll bring the coffees over when he gets here. Good luck!" She winked at him and walked away leaving him to his thoughts. He was grateful to know right off the bat that their waitress wasn't going to add to the awkwardness 11:30 was going to bring by being homophobic. He stared down at his perfectly manicured hands and waited, tracing patterns with his fingers in the tabletop nervously.

The café was small and quant, coffee themed murals covered the walls where dark red brick didn't. Tables with mismatched chairs were haphazardly scattered around the open area with seemingly no reasoning to their lay out. There was a fireplace on one wall with couches surrounding it and a few games laid out on a coffee table. If people crammed, maybe only around forty people could fit inside tops. The front windows were large and let in a lot of light, even on a gloomy Saturday such as this. The kitchen was smallish as well, but based on the menu seemed well enough appointed that there was quite a variety to choose from. Kurt wondered how often Blaine had ventured in here, how he might have sat at this very table many times in the past.

Kurt checked his heavy silver watch on his left wrist about every thirty seconds. 11:30 came and went, as did 11:35 and 11:40. Kurt started to wonder how long he was going to stay waiting. At 11:42, Kurt heard the bell on the door of the café jangle and he immediately looked up. Blaine was pushing the door shut behind him. His shoulders were a bit slumped over, but not as much as Kurt remembered seeing them before. He shuffled in, head tilted slightly down, glancing side to side as though looking for an attack to come out of nowhere.

The waitress quickly looked up and smiled at Blaine. She appeared to greet him and ask him if he was meeting someone. Blaine's head moved up and down a touch, making his curls bounce on his forehead just a little. Kurt could see her directing him towards the back where he sat. He stood as Blaine made his way slowly towards him around the other small tables and patrons cluttering the shop. His eyes darted from table to table and finally glanced up at Kurt when he was a few feet away.

As he got closer, Kurt could tell Blaine looked terrified, as though he was about to face something he desperately didn't want too. His face was drawn, nearly white, and his eyes appeared larger than normal behind his wire framed glasses. As he slid of his gloves, his hands shook a bit and he slid them in his pockets, obviously not wanting to shake Kurt's hand. He glanced up somewhere near Kurt's eyes and said in a quiet, reserved voice, "Hi. Sorry I'm late. I, uh, well, I uh . . ."

Kurt decided to give him an easy way out and interrupted his stammering, "Hi, I'm so glad you could make it, even a little late. I'm actually surprised you came at all, so thanks." He tried to smile and catch his eye, but Blaine was still not meeting his eyes. He gestured to the table and moved back to his seat as the waitress came up with their coffee.

"I hope its ok, but I ordered us coffee to start, and I ordered your old order so I hope you still like it. I'm sure they can do something different if you don't like that anymore," Kurt explained half apologizing for assuming he knew Blaine's tastes after all this time.

))))

Blaine had paced the sidewalk outside of the café for nearly twenty-five minutes trying to convince himself one way or another. His head had started pounding with a headache and he was getting more and more nervous as time went on. He didn't want to see Kurt, didn't want to deal with the memories and the what-ifs and the what-might-have-beens that he knew he would be forced through because of this. But, he had told Kurt he'd be there and he was slightly curious as to what Kurt wanted to talk with him about. And so as he paced on the narrow sidewalk a block or so from the café, he wrestled with himself.

Twelve minutes after their appointed time to meet, Blaine managed to screw up enough courage that the next time he walked by the door to the café, he reached out and pulled open the door. The bell tingled as he walked in bringing a rush of cold air with him. He made sure the door shut behind him before looking around. His resolve to appear 'fine' had left him somewhere in the past twenty-five minutes and he was hunched a bit again. It took everything he had in him not to run; he didn't have anything left in him to worry about how 'fine' he looked.

He could feel that people were looking at him and it greatly bothered him. He glanced around as quickly as he could and located Kurt towards the back of the café in a relatively-secluded area with a small table for two. He had gotten to his feet when Blaine had walked in. Kurt's face lit up in a smile as he came in and he beckoned to Blaine to come meet him.

A waitress with a smile on her face came up to him as he finished shutting the door. "You meeting someone?"

"Yeah, I think, um, I think he's in the back," Blaine stuttered out, eyes immediately to the floor. He'd seen this waitress before; he thought her name was Penny. She'd brought him coffee once or twice when he'd ventured in on rare occasions in the past. He hated that she obviously remembered him; he'd have to switch café's again. He hated connections and people, noises and bright lights, all of which were happening right now in the café. It was packed with people he'd have to push past to get to Kurt and they'd all stare. And _know_. That was the worst part – he knew his failure to be worthwhile even just as a person was written all over his face.

"Oh, good. He's been waiting for you. He knew your coffee order and even got it right on the first try; I'll follow you over there with the drinks, ok?" She looked at him trying to read his face.

"Yeah, um. That's fine," he replied shortly, wanting to escape the conversation, even if it meant heading back towards Kurt.

"Hey, take a breath, sir. He seems nice enough, even if he is your ex. Sorry, he told me. Even though he's gorgeous, don't forget you're stunning too! I mean, if you weren't gay . . ." Penny let her sentence trail off and grinned at the shocked look on Blaine's face. "I'm serious! Go get um!" She encouraged him forward and moved to the counter to gather up their coffees.

He had no choice now but to move forward and talk to Kurt. He was standing in the back watching him. Blaine could feel his eyes on him as he forced himself forward, looking up enough so he didn't bump into people. It seemed to take forever to get all the way to the back.

"Hi. Sorry I'm late. I, uh, well, I uh . . ." Blaine attempted to start and apologize for being late. He knew it was unacceptable to keep people waiting. _God you're such a fuck-up. Can't read a watch now either? You kept me waiting like you were someone important. But you're not, you understand? You're fucking lucky I even will be seen with someone like you. I already put in my order, but since you couldn't seem to get here on time, I'm not sure you should even get anything. Maybe you'll learn something for once_.

Blaine was sure the embarrassing memory was written on his face and he was so ashamed, of it and the fact that he couldn't even make it out on time on a Saturday morning. He was a screw up. The ultimate screw up.

Kurt smiled at him, trying to catch his eyes by ducking his head down so he was more in Blaine's eye line. "Hi, I'm so glad you could make it, even a little late. I'm actually surprised you came at all, so thanks."

Blaine looked up at him startled. He was late and an embarrassment and Kurt was thanking him? He met his eyes for just a fraction of a second before looking at the table again. What was Kurt saying? Something about his coffee order? "I'm sure whatever you ordered is fine," he said so quietly it was nearly a whisper.

"Medium drip, black ok? It's what I remembered, although it's been quite a while."

Blaine looked up at him momentarily again. "Yeah, that's right. How did you remember? I mean it's pretty insignificant." His voice was still quiet, and low. It reminded Kurt of velvet, the undertones in it pulled at his memory.

"I remember a lot about you Blaine, because you aren't and you never were insignificant. Everything about you meant a lot to me. I mean," Kurt tried to recover just a bit from his obvious over-play of his feelings, "you were my first boyfriend after all. You don't forget stuff about your first love."

The waitress came up then and handed them their drinks, making sure that Blaine's was correct. She also took their orders for lunch, house salads for both – extra cranberries on Kurt's without cheese and walnuts on Blaine's. Blaine had started to order only a side salad, knowing he wouldn't eat most of it, and what he did probably wouldn't stay down. But Kurt encouraged him to order the lunch size. He could tell Blaine needed the calories even if he didn't recognize it himself. Penny left them, orders in hand and headed off to the kitchen, leaving the young men alone together once again.

After an awkward minute or so when neither really said anything, Blaine ventured out a question on a wavering voice, "Why now, Kurt?" His gaze never left the tabletop, eyes tracing the same lines Kurt's fingers had traced earlier. His breath hitched in his chest as he waited for kurt's reply.

Kurt looked across the table, secretly and momentarily grateful for Blaine's down cast eyes. It allowed him to study the other man unnoticed. Kurt had been right – he was too thin, bones even showing through his clothing, he was slightly unkempt and noticeably changed in personality. The old Blaine he knew would have bounced into the café maybe a few minutes late and within seconds the entirety of the café would have known him; he would have swept Kurt up in a hug and let his big personality take over the room. Now it seemed he was attempting to disappear altogether if he could.

Blaine appeared folded in on himself, making himself smaller. His head was down, not meeting anyone's eyes. He didn't look at anyone and clearly was uncomfortable under anyone's attention.

Kurt sighed and attempted to start to answer him. "Well, I have wanted to talk to you for a long time. There's a lot that happened in our past that I am responsible for and now that I've run into you, I feel like I owe you some sort of explanation. As for why now, I finally saw you again. I didn't have any real way to get a hold of you before."

That excuse even seemed lame to Kurt's ears. One phone call was all it took for Kurt to get Blaine's number. He could have done so a hundred times before. "I want to apologize, Blaine. You deserve at least that. What happened wasn't right and it wasn't good and it definitely wasn't something you deserved. So for starters, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I broke up with you, I'm sorry for the way I did it and I'm sorry for the eight years that have gone by since."

Blaine sat there in shock listening to Kurt's answer to his simple question. Bile rose in his throat and he panicked. He didn't deserve any of this, let alone an apology. He had to get out, and now, before Kurt realized just how right he had been to break up with him. He wasn't worthy of what Kurt was talking about. Blaine knew it in his heart of hearts.

"Kurt, I can't . . . I can't do this!" He interjected as he pushed back from the table. He got up fast enough the backs of his knees knocked into the seat of his chair and nearly pushed it over. "I'm – I'm sorry." Blaine whispered, tears silently streaming down his cheeks as he grabbed his coat and quickly ran out of the little café. He shouldn't have gone there to meet Kurt. It had been a horrible idea. It was just as Alex had said about Kurt – he had seen the true Blaine and although Alex could put up with him, Kurt just couldn't.

((

**A/N: thanks for reading! I love reviews; they help me write faster! I'm looking for input on pace for this fic – is it going too slowly? I kinda feel like the detail is necessary, but I don't want it to get boring. Thanks for reading! **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews of the last chapter! Every one meant so much! I have to especially thank bigeasybreezy, my new beta, for all the amazing help and support on this chapter! I hope you all enjoy . . . **

* * *

><p>He could feel their eyes on him as he frantically made his way through the tables and out the door. He could hear Kurt behind him trying to get some money out to the waitress as he attempted to come after him. "Blaine, wait, please!"<p>

Blaine could hear Kurt behind him as he grabbed for the cold brass handle and whipped it open, the bell jangling loudly in his ears. He didn't turn around to see him and just kept going. He didn't bother to make sure the door closed behind him, his only thought _get out, get away, escape!_ The cold air hit him harshly in his face as he dashed out the door, stinging his eyes and lips but clearing his mind.

Once free of the oppressive feeling of the café, he tore down the street, running into a few people along the way, finally making it to the corner where he was forced to stop for traffic. He was already out of breath; he was already weakened and didn't have much left to run on. Once the taxis were by, he started back up at a fast walk, almost trotting down the street, desperate to put as much space between him and the café and Kurt as he could.

He looked back after a block or so and heaved a sigh of relief – he couldn't see Kurt following him. He couldn't do this, just couldn't. Kurt had tried to apologize to him. To him! As he slowed down, his head dipped lower and lower. He could hear Alex's voice in his head: _Loser, worthless, waste of space and air_. Blaine knew what he was. He knew how unworthy, unlovable and how everyone else saw him. Who was he to deserve an apology from Kurt? Kurt who was so wonderful and perfect and everything he'd ever wanted. It wasn't right, and he couldn't listen to the lies falling from Kurt's mouth any second longer. He knew above all else that he had done something to drive Kurt away all those years ago and that there was no way he deserved an apology for anything after so much time had gone by.

His slowing steps lead him to a small quarter-block park a few blocks from the café. His breath was still coming in desperate gasps from his short burst of a run. Since he hadn't seen Kurt keeping up with him, he was pretty sure he was safe to sit down and rest. His body wasn't in any shape to run the way he had and his stomach felt awful. It was churning the coffee he'd had at home as well as the few sips he'd had in the café. There was a bench not too far into the park nearly hidden by a tree. As he neared it, an overwhelming feeling of nausea hit him. _Pathetic, ugly, needy, obnoxious_. Alex's words played in his head, and his stomach rebelled against him.

He frantically looked around and noticed a garbage can blessedly close to the bench, and he grabbed for it, leaned over it, hands bracing himself on its cold metal sides as his stomach brought back up the coffee he'd had. There wasn't anything else in him as his stomach fought him and tears streaked his face. Once the dry heaves that came after all the coffee was gone had ceased, Blaine's knees collapsed and he flopped down onto the nearby bench. He settled himself back against the hard surface, paint scratching his hands as he did so. Blaine wished he had some water to wash out his mouth, but he was really just relieved to have somewhere to rest. The angry, embarrassed hot tears still streaked his face, and he leaned forward, resting his face in his hands, cradled there protected from any glances from passersby. His elbows dug into his bony knees, and he allowed himself to sob.

* * *

><p>Blaine's abrupt movement and departure caught Kurt off guard. Blaine didn't even grab his coat as he made his escape out of the café. Kurt was dumbfounded for a few seconds, losing valuable time to catch him. "Blaine, wait, please!" he called out to him as he stood himself, but the sound was lost in the café it seemed because Blaine didn't even turn around to glance at him.<p>

He reached for his wallet to pay the waitress for the coffees and the coming salads. He grabbed Blaine's coat and tossed the money at the shocked looking waitress. "I hope you catch him, sir!" she shouted after him as he caught the door and threw it open.

He knew all the eyes in the small café were on him, but he didn't even care. All he cared about was catching Blaine and figuring out what the hell was wrong. He tore out of the café, door slamming, and quickly looked both ways trying to figure out just which way Blaine might have gone. He saw him in the distance, almost to the other end of the block, running away from him frantically. Blaine was abruptly forced to stop because of traffic in the street, and Kurt started after him.

Blaine started moving further from him once the taxis were out of the way, trotting down the street, once glancing behind him. He didn't seem to see Kurt behind him and he kept moving, slowing a little, his head down and out of the wind.

Kurt was sure Blaine couldn't see him yet, but he was catching him quickly after being caught up at the same corner. "Blaine! Blaine! Wait up!" Kurt hollered down the street at him as he ran to catch up. Blaine never glanced back, slipping around a corner, but he seemed to be slowing.

A small park was off to one side of the next block. It was only a tiny green space in the city, but he had a feeling Blaine would be attracted to it. He ran through it, looking to benches and well-worn paths, searching for the other man. Despite his efforts, it seemed that Blaine had indeed lost him. He slowed his brisk walk and was contemplating accepting that Blaine had gotten away. Kurt started to make his way back toward the street he had come from to go back to the café to retrieve his forgotten satchel when a folded-over form caught his eye on a bench hidden between a large oak tree and a garbage bin.

He approached slowly and cautiously, not knowing really what to say. Blaine had obviously had a terrible reaction to him and his words, well-meaning as they had been. He was bent over, elbows on his knees on the shoddy park bench in desperate need of a new paint job. His hands were covering his face, long fingers reaching up past his eyes as his palms cradled his cheeks. His back was heaving from the silent sobs that were wracking his small frame. He hadn't seen or heard Kurt approach, too lost in his own world.

Kurt drew near to him and knelt down in front of Blaine's knees. "Blaine?" Kurt whispered his name as almost a question.

* * *

><p>Between his sobs he saw a pair of men's feet approach him clad in what appeared to be very expensive Italian tan leather shoes. "Blaine?" the owner of the shoes whispered to him.<p>

It was a voice that Blaine distinctly remembered, one that brought him back to high school. It was tentative and forlorn with a want and neediness to it that Blaine had always responded to. He had called it Kurt's "little lost lamb" voice much to Kurt's chagrin. "Blaine, I'm so sorry for whatever happened back there. I, um, I brought you your jacket."

Blaine felt him reach up around him, and he flinched. He couldn't help it. Evidently his movement didn't deter Kurt, and he settled the warm jacket around his shoulders since Blaine's head was still in his hands. He could feel Kurt just standing there in front of him, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear into nothingness, so he didn't have to be such a mess in front of him. This isn't what he had wanted; he had wanted to meet up with Kurt and show him that he was doing better, that he had his shit together. But he wasn't even capable of that. He was such a _fucking failure_. With that thought, renewed sobs shook his chest, tearing out his voice into an almost broken, quiet wail.

Kurt slowly fell to his knees in front of Blaine; he could see this through his tears and his fingers covering his face. Kurt, the boy who couldn't stand to get any of his designer anythings dirty was kneeling in the mud in front of him. "Blaine, I, I, don't . . . I mean . . ." He trailed off.

Once Blaine had a bit more control he attempted to get out, "Th-thanks, for, uh getting my jack-cket." His chest was still shaking, and his breath was coming in gasps, breaking up his words that he could speak. He wiped at the tears with the back of his hand a bit and tried to control himself, although the tears seemed to still fall no matter what he did. He felt the bench move a little beside him as Kurt steadied himself with it.

The same small voice spoke again, "Blaine, um, is it alright if I touch you?" Another tear broke loose of his overflowing eyes, and he didn't respond; he couldn't. What would he say? _No! No what? _It wasn't like Kurt was trying to come on to him, and what did he want to touch Blaine for anyway? Instead he flinched away from Kurt again and remained mute, hoping Kurt would leave him and his miserable self alone again. He had been fine before Kurt had waltzed back into his life demanding that he break out of his routine and his shell.

He felt hands, Kurt's hands, tentatively settle on the outsides of his knees right next to his elbows. They just sat there, creating a light pressure that was strangely reassuring and comforting. He managed a glance up and saw Kurt's eyes shining with tears too, his face lightly lined where others had fallen. As Blaine met his eyes, Kurt shifted his hands. "Let me help you get your jacket on, Blaine, please. It's cold out here." His voice was still near a whisper and was lower than it had been. Like the only person he wanted to hear him in the whole world was Blaine.

Blaine kept his eyes on Kurt's bright blue shimmering eyes for a second more before nodding slightly and dropping his hands from his face. Kurt's hands left his knees, and his jacket was shifted up around him to make it easier for him. Blaine started to try to get his arms in the sleeves of the jacket with Kurt's help. They struggled for a moment before it was on correctly. Blaine's arms hung at his sides, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with them.

Kurt pulled his jacket in around him and even zipped him into it. Blaine stared towards the ground. He marveled at the fact that there were actual grass marks and mud on Kurt's knees and he hadn't noticed or cared yet. It was a fascinating thought to Blaine that Kurt would not care about his clothes that much and it occupied his mind so much so that he almost missed the words Kurt whispered to himself, "Dear god, what happened to you? Oh, Blaine, I'm so sorry."

* * *

><p>He stood in front of his sobbing, hunched-over ex-boyfriend at a complete loss. Most of the time in his life, Kurt knew what to do, but this situation with Blaine had him completely perplexed. Something was so terribly wrong, and it wrenched at his heart to see Blaine in this much of a damaged condition. He just didn't know what to do and how not to hurt him. "Blaine?" He ventured out tentatively, wanting to alert the other man to his presence if he hadn't noticed him yet.<p>

So he said the only thing he could think of standing there, "Blaine, I'm so sorry for whatever happened back there. I, um, I brought you your jacket." It was lame, he knew, but it was about the only thing he could think of to say that he didn't think would set Blaine off in some way. From Blaine's reactions in the past few days, it was becoming clear to Kurt that Blaine had some very serious triggers that he had to be careful of if he wanted to help him in any way.

Blaine didn't react to his quiet voice that Kurt hated had come out high and thready from his nervousness. When he didn't move, Kurt started to settle his jacket around his shoulders, just hoping to keep the thin man a bit warmer. As it started to touch him, Blaine jerked away from him, but stayed on the bench. Kurt paused in his movements, and once he was satisfied that Blaine was okay with what he was doing, he finished situating the jacket around his shoulders.

Kurt stood there a minute more arguing with himself about what to do. All he could settle on was that Blaine needed help and he was the only one it appeared was able or willing to give it to him. Any help that he could give him needed not to be here and now, though, because it was far too cold outside and Blaine was already shivering.

He had to get Blaine somewhere else, more secluded than the café but a place he felt safe and warm. Then they could talk or Kurt could talk or they could just be, but Kurt knew he couldn't leave Blaine by himself now. But it wouldn't work if he couldn't get Blaine's attention. He shuffled his feet a bit closer and then knelt down on the dirty ground in front of him so they were nearly eye to eye. He winced a little inwardly as he realized these were designer jeans that were now going to be grass-stained and dirty, but it was definitely worth it.

"Blaine, I, I, don't . . . I mean . . ." He started but couldn't manage to finish the sentence. He had so much he wanted to say, so much in his heart that he wanted to get out, but he couldn't find the right words. Here was Blaine in front of him, the one man who had meant everything to him, the one he had always thought was _The One_, broken and beaten down and _fucking_ _flinching_ when he made one movement toward him. It was as though Blaine was afraid of him, of what he might do, of the pain he might cause. It was absolutely heartbreaking and devastating.

He had known it might take Blaine a while to get over him, but he never thought his actions might lead to something like this or whatever else had happened. He had been trying to protect Blaine. He had been horrible, undeserving and utterly betrayed him. He hadn't wanted to see the look on Blaine's face when he realized what his boyfriend really was: a person who didn't care what they had to do to get to the top, a sell-out, and worse a person who would consider hurting his boyfriend to do so. Because of this he hadn't told him what he had done; he'd just broken it off, hoping that would be easier. He would live with his crime, but Blaine wouldn't have to.

Now he realized that even that action was selfish. He had been protecting himself in Blaine's eyes; he hadn't wanted to damage his image to Blaine. But that is what he had deserved – if he had done that, maybe Blaine would have realized how awful he was and been able to forget about him.

The tears started down his cheeks when he realized that not only had he behaved absolutely appallingly, but he had also been a selfish prick. He'd had a great hand in creating the broken man in front of him. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks as he tried to get the amber eyes he had so loved to meet his again.

Kurt jumped a little at Blaine's voice, cracking and quiet, but there and beautiful to his ears nonetheless, "Th-thanks, for, uh getting my jack-cket." He moved to wipe at his face and rub his eyes, although he seemed to still be crying.

Kurt thought of reaching out to put his hands on Blaine's knees but thought better of it. Instead he balanced himself by reaching out his hands to either side of Blaine's hips and hung onto the bench he was sitting on. As he knelt there on the cold ground, he waited for Blaine's next move.

"Blaine, um, is it alright if I touch you?" he tentatively asked him. Kurt knew that touching him without permission was a bad idea. Blaine flinched again and didn't respond. Kurt took it as an acceptance of his question and lightly laid his hands on the other man's knees near his elbows. Blaine startled a little at his touch, but didn't pull away. He finally opened his eyes, and molten amber stared Kurt down. There was so much pain hidden in those eyes washed clean with the tears falling down his face. It was the longest he'd looked in his eyes since they had met a few weeks ago.

Kurt could feel the light shivers running through Blaine's small, thin frame and knew he needed to get him warm again soon. Their eyes still locked, he whispered, "Let me help you get your jacket on, Blaine, please. It's cold out here." The other man nodded and acquiesced to his suggestion. His hands left his face, and he allowed Kurt to assist him into pulling it on. There was momentary frustration when his shirtsleeve caught in the jacket, but then it was over his shoulders. Kurt waited a few seconds before realizing that Blaine was going to make no motion to pull the zipper up on his own. He seemed to just be staring into space near Kurt's knees. But he had stopped crying, and Kurt supposed that was at least some progress. He inwardly sighed and moved to zip up Blaine's jacket.

While zipping his coat, Kurt could finally tell how rail thin Blaine really was, despite his clothing hiding it pretty well. He seemed really out of it, and if his recent experience with Blaine was any indication, he hadn't eaten anything lately. He seemed nervous and fidgety as well as scared at the simplest of things. Kurt's heart hurt. And he wanted to do what he should have done long ago, open up to him and let him in. Let Blaine be himself, let Blaine know that he had problems too and that he wanted to solve them together. His thoughts escaped in a whisper through his lips, "Dear god, what happened to you? Oh, Blaine, I'm so sorry."

Evidently Blaine heard him, as his eyes flitted up to meet his again briefly. Kurt tried to hold them with his own, moving so that he was back in Blaine's line of sight. "I am sorry Blaine, for everything." His hands moved up to squeeze Blaine's shoulders as the words left his mouth. He decided not to address Blaine running out of the café directly just yet. "If you're not up for the café, can we get something to go and head somewhere more private where you're more comfortable? I'd still like to talk with you and spend some time with you. If it's okay. I do have to stop back at the café for my satchel, though. What do you think?"

Blaine seemed to fight with himself for a few moments, emotions flashing across his face and his eyes. "Ye-yes" his voice cracked, "um, I liked your place okay."

Kurt grinned back at him. He wasn't surprised. He remembered from long ago that Blaine had problems sleeping somewhere he wasn't comfortable, and so it had been very telling when Blaine had fallen asleep while at Kurt's before. Despite the war going on within Blaine, underneath everything he evidently still had some trust for Kurt.

"I have some more of Carole's soup if you'd be more interested in that instead of take out; you seemed to like it before," Kurt suggested hopefully with another squeeze to his shoulders.

Blaine contemplated for a second, "oh, yeah, that would be okay." Kurt let go of his shoulders and helped him up to a standing position. He held on to Blaine's elbow as he steadied himself on his feet.

"We're not too far away. I'll call the café and let them know I'll be back later for the satchel. I think we should go to my place now; we're only a few blocks from it, and the café's in a different direction. You think you can manage?" Blaine nodded in response, his eyes dropping yet again towards the ground. He was weak, but he didn't want to show it as much as he could.

Kurt dropped his hand from Blaine's elbow and let him fare on his own for the walk. Kurt thought it might be a point of pride for Blaine not to rely on him too much, and he didn't blame him. They slowly made their way out of the park, Blaine setting the pace, and headed towards Kurt's apartment together.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm already hard at work on the next chapter; look for it soon! I appreciate any and all comments, recommendations, ideas and thoughts! Reviews help me write faster and give me great ideas. Thanks again for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I seem to start all my chapters with an apology for the wait, and this one is no exception! It's my longest (by far) to date, so I hope that makes up for everything! Also, you get some answers with this one. Thanks again to my beta, ****bigeasybreezy****, for all the help and suggestions on this beast of a chapter! And thanks for all the reviews, alerts and private messages; they mean a lot to me and make my day so much better! I hope you enjoy . . . **

* * *

><p>The two men slowly made their way to Kurt's place from the park. Kurt tried to walk close to Blaine without him noticing too much. He was terrified that in his state he would trip or stumble on an uneven part of the pavement. A little voice in his head also kept reminding him that Blaine might run or try to evade him again, which he was afraid he would do before he got a chance to find out what was going on with him.<p>

Kurt desperately wanted to wrap an arm around Blaine's waist to help steady him, but didn't want to push him too much. After his near faint in the coffee shop the last time they met, Kurt had been worried about Blaine and the condition he seemed to be in. He watched Blaine out of the corner of his eye pretty much the entire walk back to his apartment building trying to determine if he was doing alright and if he was going to flee on him again.

Between the small glances he caught on the way home and his time with him that morning, Kurt's assumptions about Blaine's state seemed to be confirmed. He was sickeningly thin, not the thin of a person who works too much and doesn't remember to eat sometimes or a person who has a gym addiction, but the thinness that comes from choosing not to eat for whatever reason.

His eyes held no shine, no sparkle and seemed to have no hope – they were dark and dull and unfocused. When Kurt did get Blaine to meet his eyes it appeared as though he was looking through him, not at him. His choice in clothing was all massively too big on him; not even his jacket seemed to fit. It was all heartbreaking.

The walk was taking much longer than it usually took Kurt, but he slowed his pace so as to not tire Blaine out even more. He still seemed to be a bit hunched, and his walk screamed "defeated." His shoulder bumped into Kurt's from time to time when their steps weren't quite together. Blaine didn't outwardly react to the brief touches, though, much to Kurt's dismay. His face was down-turned and still showed the streaks of his tears when the light caught his face just right. His glasses masked some of it, but it was still visible. He did venture a glance at Kurt a few times that Kurt caught, but not even enough of one to move his head.

The walk took only around ten minutes, but seemed to last a lot longer to Kurt. He led them into the building and headed toward the elevator, knowing that Blaine was out of breath already and trying to hide it. There was no way he was going to make it up three flights of stairs too.

The elevator carried them haltingly up to Kurt's floor and the slight banging noises coming from it made Blaine flinch once or twice on the short ride. Once off the elevator, Blaine turned immediately to the left and headed towards Kurt's apartment. He remembered the way it seemed, and Kurt's heart soared at the small amount of familiarity they had now. He followed close behind and struggled just a few seconds with his keys, tossing them into the bowl by the door once they were inside. He locked the door behind them and ushered Blaine into the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the table for him.

Kurt leaned himself up against his kitchen counter, facing Blaine. He wasn't quite sure where to begin. They'd made almost the entire walk in silence and had remained so all the way up to his apartment in the elevator. Blaine still appeared to be shivering and Kurt figured that the best way to start would be just to get some food in Blaine and get him warmed up. "So, um I have a few different types of Carole's soups if you would still like that, or we can cook something together, or order in, whatever you would like, Blaine." Kurt hoped he would just choose something, anything.

But Blaine just sat there on the wooden chair and stared at his hands. Kurt waited, not wanting to push the other man into an answer, hoping that just giving him some time would elicit one. He started to look around the kitchen for ideas, while trying not to stare at Blaine. "Kurt, I, um, I don't know why I'm here. I . . . I just . . . I don't understand," Blaine trailed off.

Kurt pulled his head out of the freezer where he'd been debating between vegetarian chili and chicken jambalaya at the sound of Blaine's voice. It was quiet and broken, and he'd barely heard him. The freezer door slammed shut and made them both jump. It was then that Kurt noticed the tears that were running down Blaine's face again. For the second time that day, Kurt hurried to his ex-boyfriend and put his hands on his knees as he knelt in front of him, attempting to catch his eye.

"Hey, hey . . . calm down. It's okay." His voice was lower than normal and soft, trying to break into Blaine's thoughts and soothe him. After all these years, one thing he still couldn't stand was to see Blaine cry. "You're here, Blaine, because you need to be. I _want_ you here. I hope you want to be here. I want to talk with you, to find out more about you and your life now. I know some things haven't gone the best, and I'd like to help you if you need it. I also think there are some things you deserve to know. There are some questions that you deserve answers to, if you still want to know the answers.

You're here, Blaine, because when we broke up, I didn't just lose a wonderful boyfriend, I lost my best friend, and I miss you, Blaine. I know that sounds selfish. No matter what I did to cause all of this, I never stopped missing you, and I want you back in my life." He bulldozed on, hoping his sincerity was coming through his words and managing to sink into Blaine's head. "Is that ok? Can we just start with some lunch and see where it takes us? One thing I do know for sure is that you need to eat something. Now. So, do you have a preference? What would you like for lunch?"

It appeared as though Blaine was lost in a daze for a few moments, but came back to himself enough to answer, "Um, anything's fine with me, soup is fine. I liked what we had last time. But, um," he paused seemingly unsure of himself, lost in his own mind and slightly oblivious to what was going on around him, "can it not be chicken noodle?" He looked up a bit at Kurt with this last question, eyes flitting to Kurt's.

A grin broke out on Kurt's face; here was a piece of the Blaine he knew breaking through to the surface. "Of course, not chicken noodle. You're still the only person I've ever met, Blaine, with a strong dislike for chicken noodle soup. Why don't I warm up a couple different kinds, and then you can choose what you like, or try several?" Blaine didn't respond, but a small smile played at the corners of his mouth and Kurt took that as a positive sign. "While I do that, would you like to go in the living room and get settled in? There are still blankets on the couch, and you can warm up some while I'm cooking. You're still shivering a bit from our walk."

"Oh. Yeah, that'd be okay, I guess," Blaine replied quietly. Kurt watched him as he slowly pushed himself to his feet and shuffled out of the kitchen towards the living room at Kurt's direction.

* * *

><p>Blaine had followed Kurt without protest out of the park. He was so tired of everything, and his run out of the café hadn't helped either. He really wanted to just go back to his apartment and curl up and cry, forgetting the rest of the world. But Kurt had offered to take him back to the one other place in the city that he was really alright with being. Despite his running out scared the last time he'd been over to Kurt's, it had been nice. He had liked how it had smelled just like he remembered Kurt smelled and how the design of the place was so distinctly Kurt. And although he wouldn't really admit it even to himself, he loved that he felt at least partially relaxed there. He also loved Carole's cooking and he was actually hungry.<p>

He loved the feeling of just being in the room with someone else he didn't have to worry about judging him. When they were watching _Aladdin_, he hadn't felt as bad as he had in a long time. He felt comforted, wrapped in blankets that smelled of Kurt, warm and cared for, with a full stomach for the first time in a long time. He'd been so comfortable that he'd been able to fall asleep, which was really odd because he had a terrible time falling asleep in unfamiliar places. So all Blaine could think when Kurt ignored the fact that he'd run away from him in the café and suggested going back to his apartment was warm and cozy and better. So he made his way a bit wobbly to his feet and walked side-by-side with Kurt towards his nearby apartment.

Blaine watched his feet as he moved forward, slightly following Kurt, vaguely knowing the direction they were walking. It felt nice to have Kurt so close. He'd missed him so much, even recently. He never really had stopped missing Kurt, he guessed. Even during the years he'd spent with Alex.

_Alex_. He shook his head with a tiny movement in an effort to clear the thought of his ex before it took root, but it was too late. _Kurt hates you. He obviously does since he just up and left you. Why do you still have his picture? Do you know how pathetic it is that you've kept it? How pathetic you are to still have it out? He left you because he couldn't love you – what would someone like him want with someone like you? God, get rid of it before I have to see his stupid face again. He hurt you and didn't love you, Blaine! Why would you hold on to something that proves how unworthy and unloved you were? Blaine, you're so weak. You're so lucky you found me. I'll put up with your crap, even the stuff Kurt couldn't stand about you. I love you. What would you do without me? You'd be so alone again. Alone and pathetic, just like when I met you. _

Blaine pulled himself out of the years-old conversation that was replaying in his head and chanced a glance over at Kurt. He may still be alone and pathetic, just like Alex had said, but Kurt wasn't. God, he was still so gorgeous, so sure of himself, so perfectly Kurt. His eyes still held the sparkle that he remembered. He was taller now than he had been when they broke up, but not by much, and he had filled out some in the chest and arms, probably from working out. His hair was still perfectly done, and his outfits appeared carefully chosen just like they always had been. He even still wore the same cologne that Blaine remembered, that his little penguin still smelled faintly of.

He still didn't know why Kurt wanted to see him or talk to him, but he couldn't figure out any way it could be good. But he could enjoy this moment just walking with him in companionable silence, enjoying the closeness of his presence. He wasn't even walking far away from him, and Blaine wanted to have this moment last forever, before he found out why it was Kurt wanted so badly to talk with him. He had a sinking feeling that whatever it was would inevitably break his heart again, so he deliberately slowed his walk. Kurt slowed as well to match him stride for stride. Blaine kept taking little peeks at him when he could without getting caught. His heart ached with how much he had missed the tall, handsome man next to him.

All too soon they were in front of Kurt's building. They made their way to the elevator, Blaine's head dropping a little with each step. As much as he wanted to spend time with Kurt and be as comforted as he had been in his apartment before, he was dreading hearing what Kurt had to say. The elevator ride didn't seem to take any time at all as it banged and clanged to his floor, and when they stepped out of the elevator, he turned knowingly to the left, towards Kurt's door. He fidgeted as Kurt fit his key into the lock and let them both in, holding the door for him.

Once inside, Blaine stood nervously and anxiously not knowing quite what to do with himself until Kurt was kind enough to pull out a chair for him. Kurt started poking around in his pantry and freezer, looking for something. Blaine just sat there in the chair staring down at his fingers, which he figured were about the only safe place for him to look. He knew Kurt had told him he was single, but he was terrified he would see evidence of pictures or something to do with others who had filled Kurt's heart with love after him. He didn't think he could bear that as well as everything else, so he focused on the chapped hands resting in his lap.

"So, um I have a few different types of Carole's soups if you would still like that, or we can cook something together, whatever you would like, Blaine." Kurt's muffled voice came from inside of the freezer.

Blaine struggled to put together a sentence. He was trying to sort through the feelings in his head while putting the nagging faint whispers of Alex out of it. Finally he managed to make his voice work. "Kurt, I, um, I don't know why I'm here. I . . . I just . . . I don't understand." His courage to get the words out stopped there. His mind was besieged with all the things he'd thought of himself since Kurt had left him, all of the things that Alex had assured him were true. The tears that had been welling behind his eyes started to slip silently and swiftly down his sunken cheeks.

There was a loud bang that sounded in the kitchen, and Blaine started, glancing upwards with wide eyes to find the source of the noise. Kurt was in front of him in a second, knelt down in front of him. Blaine realized the sound was probably the door of the freezer, and his eyes fell lower again, off to the side, away from Kurt's knowing eyes right in front of him. He couldn't look at him. He was so embarrassed to be crying again. What a weak little pathetic nothing he was. He sniffled and rubbed the back of his hand at his eyes, willing himself to just disappear.

Kurt's quiet voice cut through to him, forcing him to listen to it. He'd missed it for so long; he couldn't tune it out no matter how hard he tried. "Hey, hey . . . calm down. It's okay." Kurt was forcing him to look into his eyes or nearly there. But Kurt was wrong, it wasn't ok. _He_ wasn't ok. "You're here, Blaine, because you need to be. I want you here. I hope you want to be here. I want to talk with you, to find out more about you and your life now. I know some things haven't gone the best, and I'd like to help you if you need it. I also think there are some things you deserve to know. There are some questions that you deserve answers to, if you still want to know the answers."

Blaine didn't think he could possibly be serious. Kurt wanted him there? Of course it was just pity. Kurt knew what he was. There was no escaping the facts. _Loser, asshole, worthless, ugly._ Alex's voice screamed in his head. Kurt's hands squeezed Blaine's knees reassuringly where they were resting and forced him to listen again.

"You're here, Blaine, because when we broke up, I didn't just lose a wonderful boyfriend, I lost my best friend, and I miss you, Blaine. I know that sounds selfish. No matter what I did to cause all of this, I never stopped missing you, and I want you back in my life." Blaine's eyes flitted up to Kurt's for just the briefest of seconds. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. Kurt hated him. Kurt never wanted to see him again. He wasn't worth even a phone call or email or text. _Worthless. He left you, you know why? Because you forced him out with your childishness, your weirdness, and your weaknesses. He obviously couldn't love you, how could he? And he definitely couldn't marry you. But you have me, so he shouldn't matter. _

"Is that okay? Can we just start with some lunch and see where it takes us? One thing I do know for sure is that you need to eat something. Now. So, do you have a preference? What would you like for lunch?" Kurt had asked him something. Damn it. He had to respond. It was something about soup, maybe?

"Um any soup is fine. I liked what we had last time. But, um," Blaine managed to push out. He shook his head again, slowly back and forth while he debated whether voicing an opinion was really a good idea. "Can it not be chicken noodle?"

Kurt was smiling at him. He could see it out of the corner of his eye. And it wasn't Kurt's fake smile either; it was the one that he grinned when he was really happy and forgot that his eyes crinkled like that. Kurt had always hated how his face crinkled when he smiled, Blaine remembered, but he'd always loved it. "Of course, not chicken noodle. You're still the only person I've ever met, Blaine, with a strong dislike for chicken noodle soup. Why don't I warm up a couple different kinds, and then you can choose what you like, or try several?"

Blaine had to let a bit of a smile through with that. He wasn't sure how much he'd actually be able to eat and keep down, but he'd try, and Kurt was making an effort. Kurt was still evidently speaking to him. Although he'd missed quite a bit of his statement, Blaine got the gist—that he was supposed to go wait in the living room for him. He got up, still a little unsteady, and headed for the living room. It was just as it had been the first time he'd been over. Blaine selected one of the blankets folded neatly at the top of the couch, wrapped himself in it and grabbed a second to wrap around his legs. The blankets smelled of Kurt, and he hummed to himself, enjoying the warmth taking over him, his shivering starting to disappear.

He let his mind wander just a little, wondering what Kurt had wanted to tell him, what answers he could possibly have for him. Blaine felt that he knew why Kurt had left. It would hurt too much to hear it straight from the man himself. So he hoped that wasn't it. He couldn't bear to hear how he wasn't good enough yet again. He'd definitely heard it enough from Alex.

_He'd been trying on outfits for about 45 minutes, trying to find just the right one to wear when he finally met some of Alex's friends from out of town. They were coming for a visit, and he'd never met any of them before, just heard about how amazing they all were. Alex had made it clear that he'd better not fuck it up, that he had reservations about Blaine meeting them at all, but they had asked about Blaine and knew they lived together so he didn't have much choice. _

_Blaine had tried just about every pair of dress pants he had with every shirt that might possibly go with them. He wanted Alex to be proud of his boyfriend, proud to introduce him to his old friends. He wanted to be the kind of boyfriend that Alex always wanted him to be. Things hadn't been going very well lately; Alex was usually mad or moody when he got home and Blaine had been making every effort to remedy the situation. He'd been coming home early just to make sure that Alex's apartment was clean and dinner was nearly ready when the other man got home. _

_He'd even started doing all of Alex's laundry as well, just to smooth things over. Things seemed to be better between them when Blaine took care of the menial tasks so Alex could relax at night, although lately, since he'd been doing so much, it was cutting into Blaine's studying, and his grades were suffering. _

_But, tonight he just had to look perfect for Alex and try to be charming to his friends. He'd been warned already not to talk too much because he'd be annoying, and not to bore them with his talk of law school. Alex said it was pretentious and insulting to others because their careers were just as good as his, if not better, and nobody wants to talk about his cases anyway._

_He'd narrowed it down to about four choices when he decided he'd better get Alex's opinion since he knew his friends and probably how he wanted Blaine to look when he first met them. He found him out in the living room sitting on the couch already nursing a beer. Alex glanced up at him with a bored look on his face when he walked in the room. "Hey, I need a refill, Blaine."_

"_Ok, honey, just a second. I need your opinion on my outfit for tonight. What do you think?" Blaine asked as he popped back into the living room with a second beer for Alex. _

"_You're seriously thinking of wearing that? You have got to be kidding me. Lose the fucking bow tie. Try something else," Alex nearly grunted after taking a cursory glance at him. Blaine hustled back into the bedroom. Probably the pinstriped pants didn't go well with the shirt he had chosen. He should have known better. He tried on the best of the other three, hoping Alex would like this selection. _

"_How about this one, Alex?" He spun, stopping just in time to face him, doing a bit of jazz hands for effect. _

_Alex glanced at him and gave him a once over. "Well, at least the clothes look alright."_

_Blaine looked down and lost his silly stance, feeling embarrassed. It wasn't an outright insult, but it still stung. He knew what Alex left unsaid – the clothes looked acceptable, but he didn't. "Ok, I'll go with this then. I'm going to finish getting ready. I ironed the clothes you asked me to, honey, and they're on your bed. Do you need anything before I get ready?"_

"_Just for you to leave me alone for a while. Try not to drown in your hair gel tonight, ok?" He didn't even look at Blaine as he walked out of the room, defeat written on his face. _

Blaine was pulled out of his memory by Kurt walking into the room. He was carrying a steaming tray with four bowls on it, each containing what smelled like the best soup on the planet. Kurt smiled at him as he set down the tray on the coffee table in front of Blaine.

"They're still really hot, so be careful. I didn't know what you'd want, so I warmed up a lot, and you can try whatever. There's more too back in the kitchen if you want it." Kurt pointed out the chicken jambalaya, the vegetarian chili, the chicken and wild rice and the last one, cheddar potato. They all looked amazing, and Blaine's mouth began to water, and he felt hungry, really hungry for the first time in days if not weeks.

"Um, while they cool a little, I'd like to talk for a few minutes, Blaine, if that's ok." Kurt was looking at him intensely and Blaine could only meet his gaze for a moment before looking away again. He wasn't ready for this, but he couldn't escape it either. He took a shuddering breath in an attempt to calm himself down some, but it wasn't really working.

"Okay." Blaine settled back further into his mound of blankets and braced himself for what was to come. Kurt moved to sit next to him on the couch and put a hand near where his knee was hiding under the blankets.

Blaine heard Kurt sigh, "Well, I don't really know how to start, Blaine. Finn told me I need to apologize to you, and he's right. I've wanted to for a long time, but I don't know, I let time get away from me, and then it seemed like I'd waited too long. I have wanted to talk with you for years, basically since we first broke up, but at that time, I felt like I couldn't. I couldn't make myself face you. And once months and then years went by, it felt like I didn't have the right. By then, I didn't have your number, although that's a crappy excuse since one call to Finn got it for me." He paused and seemed to gather his thoughts.

Blaine's mind was reeling. He couldn't possibly mean this. He'd wanted to talk to him? But . . . that didn't make any sense. If you hate someone, you don't want to talk with them, to apologize. He couldn't understand Kurt. What was he saying? Time had gotten away from him? How had that happened? Every agonizing second had torn at Blaine until his heart and life were just shredded remnants of what had been. He looked up, searching to find the shining blue eyes, hoping to find more understanding there. Kurt was already staring at him, tears falling down his cheeks, grief written everywhere on his face. His lips pressed together so hard his dimple showed on his right cheek. He licked his lips and continued, Blaine's eyes still meeting his, captivated by the dark blue color they had turned.

"So I guess, I start by telling you how sorry I am. For everything. For leaving you, for giving you no explanation, for any hand I had in what ultimately happened to you. I'm sorry for what I did; I regret my actions every day. I know people say all the time "it's not you, it's me," but truly you did absolutely nothing to deserve this. It was me; I did some things I wasn't proud of, actually some things I'm pretty damn ashamed of doing. I couldn't face you; couldn't tell you what I had done because I was afraid that you wouldn't love me anymore. I told myself for years that I had broken up with you to protect you from me, but now that I've seen you again, seen what my actions have caused, I had to be honest with myself. I didn't want you to know what I truly was like. I wanted to save face with you. I was afraid you would see me as faulty or stupid or not worthy, so to save myself your rejection, I broke up with you. I'm so sorry, Blaine. I was so stupid."

Blaine's eyes stayed on him the whole time, their gazes locked together as he heard Kurt fully for the first time that day. Kurt was saying it wasn't him. It wasn't his fault. This didn't make sense. Everything he'd told himself about their breakup, the only reason that fit was that he was a failure. What could Kurt have done? Was he just trying to make him feel better? What did he mean he'd done some things he was ashamed of doing? Kurt wasn't stupid; he was stupid. He pushed away from Kurt on the couch, putting as much space in between them as he could. This wasn't right, couldn't be right.

"Please, Blaine, say something," Kurt pleaded with him, tears streaking down his face in perfect rivulets, forming little droplets when they reached his chin or his light pink lips. He didn't move and let Blaine pull away from him.

Blaine's eyes still wide and brimming with his own tears, words started to escape his lips in a whisper. "But, that can't be true; it isn't. I'm the failure, not you. I'm a worthless waste of space, a pain in the ass, a loser and ugly. I'm awful. Why, Kurt? Why are you saying this stuff? It's not true. It's not! I caused all this. It's my fault, always my fault because I'm such a fuck up." Blaine's head moved back and forth in disbelief of what the other man was saying.

"No, Blaine, no! You're not. I'm telling you the absolute truth of what happened. Someday, if you want to know exactly what happened, I'll tell you, but for now it's just important that you know you didn't do anything wrong. I promise!" Kurt leaned toward him again and found his hands where he'd hidden them back under the blanket. His blue eyes were dark and full of tears.

Blaine's was trying to wrap his mind around what Kurt was telling him. It flew in the face of everything he'd thought for the past eight years. Kurt's hands on his were about the only thing grounding him in the moment. He whispered to himself, "But, that can't be. Alex said . . . he told me . . . you hate me; that's why you left."

"Oh, Blaine, honey, no. That's not it at all. I could never hate you. Ever. I promise, I'm telling you the absolute truth." Blaine flinched at the term of endearment. He could feel Kurt's thumbs running over the outsides of his hands, reassuring him and giving more comfort in that single touch than he thought possible. "And hey, our soup is getting cold. Come on, eat something. You'll feel better, and then we can talk more or whatever you want. Please."

Blaine blinked and looked at their intertwined hands. He pulled away from Kurt and glanced at the soup bowls. "Ch-chicken and wild rice?" It seemed to be the choice that would be least likely to upset his stomach. Kurt nodded at him and wiped his eyes.

Kurt handed him the bowl and a spoon, grabbed one of the others and settled back into the couch to eat. Blaine glanced up at him from his own bowl to find Kurt keeping an eye on him. He tried a single spoonful and when his stomach didn't seem to reject it, he continued on. Kurt had waited for him to start before starting himself. After a few bites, Blaine felt the couch move and looked up. Kurt had gotten up and was messing with his iPod; very soon a song from _Aladdin_ was coming through the speakers and Blaine braved a smile.

* * *

><p>Once Blaine was safely into the living room and getting settled, Kurt took a moment to gather himself. He quickly made a call to the café, explaining as little as possible and asking for them to please hold his satchel for him. He pulled the soups out of the freezer and put them into pans, knowing that the taste would be better if he warmed them on the stove rather than in the microwave. It gave him time to think a bit as well.<p>

He needed some answers about Blaine, but couldn't outright ask him. Kurt was terrified he'd trigger some intense reaction from him again. Something had happened to him, and it was more than anything he had done, he was pretty sure. Even if he could just get a few clues into the situation, he felt he could handle it better.

_Goddammit_! He wished he hadn't cut ties with most of Blaine's old friends. Granted they'd had a lot of shared friends, but most of the people who had been friends with Blaine before they'd dated, he had written off after the break up. He needed someone who had been around Blaine more recently, someone who might give him a clue as to what had happened in the past eight years. Kurt didn't want to go around his back and pry, but Blaine was in serious need of some help, and he wasn't sure he could give him all he needed.

There were only two people he could think of that would have that kind of information that he might be able to get a hold of. Wes and David. That's who Blaine had been visiting the weekend before they broke up, and he was pretty sure they'd remained friends with him. But he'd gotten rid of their phone numbers, never thinking he'd want to talk to them again. _Shit_. He'd have to look into that later; maybe he could get their numbers off of the internet, but that didn't help him now.

After he'd stirred the soups up, he made the decision to try Finn again, hoping he might know something.

He grabbed his phone and quickly typed out "Hey. Blaine's here w/me & he's pretty messed up. Have any idea what happened to him after we broke up. Can't call, don't want him to hear." He hit the send button and hoped.

It took a few minutes, during which he peeked into the living room at Blaine, who seemed to just be sitting on the couch staring into space, completely cuddled into a huge mound of blankets. As he walked back into the kitchen, his phone buzzed, indicating a new text. Finn had texted him back. "WTF dude? No idea, remember U didn't want me 2 tell him anything. He didn't tell me anything about him. Just asked about U."

He texted a quick reply, "Nothing at all? Fuck. I'll call later. Thx."

He stirred the pots, making sure nothing was burning. It took a few minutes, but about the time he'd started transferring the soup into bowls and arranging a tray to carry into the living room, he got another text from Finn. "Ok. Can U ask 1 of his Warbler buddies?"

He sighed and leaned against the counter. This was going to be even tougher than he had thought. He shot a quick text back to his brother, "I'm going to try. Have to find a number though." Kurt turned his phone on silent then, not wanting him and Blaine to be interrupted later. He didn't want any distractions from the other man; he was way more important than any text or phone call he would get in the next few hours.

Kurt placed the last of the dishes on the tray and walked into the living room, steeling himself for the conversation to come. He knew Blaine deserved some answers, but this wasn't going to be any easier because of that fact. He'd hidden from this for eight years. He set the tray down on the coffee table and moved to sit near Blaine on the couch. He tried to get his attention, but he seemed distant and upset again, his eyes looking almost haunted in their murky golden-green color.

The words seemed to fall from his mouth unfiltered. He tried to keep his explanation short, and not get too into details, but enough so Blaine could have some understanding. He deserved to know the truth about him, and that's what he offered. The whole time Kurt was forcing himself through his apology, he kept a close eye on Blaine, who seemed to fight his words all the way to the end, his head shaking back and forth denying what he was saying.

Partially through, Kurt found Blaine's hands under his blanket. He had to touch him, had to feel his skin on his own. He couldn't finish if he didn't, and he wasn't sure Blaine was still with him. When he got a hold of them, Blaine's eyes finally rose to meet his and locked in on him. He pleaded with Blaine to say something, to respond.

Blaine's broken voice cut through him, straight to his heart, "But, that can't be true; it isn't. I'm the failure, not you. I'm a worthless waste of space, a pain in the ass, a loser and ugly. I'm awful. Why, Kurt? Why are you saying this stuff? It's not true. It's not! I caused all this. It's my fault, always my fault because I'm such a fuck up." Tears welled in Kurt's eyes. Blaine couldn't think that, it was horrible. What he was saying couldn't be further from the truth. Kurt's tears fell as he tried one more time to get Blaine to hear him and understand that it was all his fault, not Blaine's.

He stumbled to get the words out fast enough, "No, Blaine, no! You're not. I'm telling you the absolute truth of what happened. Someday, if you want to know exactly what happened, I'll tell you, but for now it's just important that you know you didn't do anything wrong. I promise!" His eyes were locked onto Blaine's as he pleaded with him to understand, to believe him. Blaine's eyes saddened more and more as the words flowed out of Kurt. Blaine pulled away from him then, shrinking into the arm of the couch behind him.

After a few seconds, a few quiet words tumbled out of Blaine's mouth, and Kurt wasn't sure whether he was speaking to him or himself. "But, that can't be. Alex said . . . he told me . . . you hate me; that's why you left."

Panic rose in Kurt's throat. _Who the fuck was Alex?_ How the hell did he fit into this? It was evident to Kurt that whoever he was, he'd filled Blaine's head with absolute garbage. Those horrible things he'd said, perhaps that was Alex's doing too. Kurt knew he'd never said or implied any of those things to Blaine; he wouldn't dream of it. There were enough people in the world to hurt them; he sure didn't need to add to it by saying such hurtful things. Kurt reached for his hands again, moving in closer to him to emphasize what he was about to say.

"Oh, Blaine, honey, no. That's not it at all. I could never hate you. Ever. I promise, I'm telling you the absolute truth." A sob rose in Kurt's chest at the thought of ever hating Blaine, and of Blaine thinking that not only could Kurt hate him, but also that he had for eight years. He ran his thumbs over Blaine's hands, trying to reassure the other man that his words were true. They needed a break from this conversation and some time to think. "And hey, our soup is getting cold. Come on, eat something. You'll feel better, and then we can talk more or whatever you want. Please."

Blaine met his eye again and simply stated, "Ch-chicken with wild rice?" Kurt handed him the requested bowl and grabbed one for himself. He settled back into the couch, just a cushion away from Blaine, and started to eat as he watched the other man. After a few minutes of silence, he got up and turned on his iPod so they had some background music for dinner. He chose an old playlist made up of almost completely Disney songs and old Katy Perry numbers which he listened to when he missed Blaine the most.

As he sat back down on the couch and picked up his bowl, he saw a smile cross Blaine's face when "A Whole New World" started to play. Perhaps, Kurt hoped, they really could get through this in the end.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope you enjoyed this super long chapter! Again, I apologize for the wait. Please review if you can! Your suggestions and words of encouragement are awesome motivators!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this one! As always, I own nothing except the OCs and the themes. A big thanks to all the reviews on the last chapter! (As well as the alerts and favorites!) They each mean so much to me! Also thanks to my amazing beta, ****bigeasybreezy****! Longer author note at the end; please read it! Enjoy . . . **

They ate in silence, once they got settled in, both lost in their own thoughts. Blaine's mind wandered through the day's events, trying to decide how he really felt about it all. He was so tired; he couldn't believe it was still Saturday. His mind wasn't quite wrapping around everything. Kurt's revelations to him were mind boggling. He couldn't bring himself to belief any of it, really.

What he had just heard was so different than what he'd thought for the better part of a decade. He felt as though a rug he'd been standing on had been pulled out from underneath him. He couldn't think about it anymore. He was so exhausted even the bowl he was holding seemed heavy. He struggled with his mind to bite back the memories that were lapping at the edges. He didn't want to think about Alex. He didn't want to think about what he thought he knew to be true. Alex had always told him, once he'd learned about Kurt, that Kurt had just finally seen through him and he wasn't good enough for Kurt. Blaine knew this – Kurt was amazing – smart and funny, hysterical with his sarcasm and quips. He was gorgeous, pale, and perfect with fabulous hair and a fashion sense that was so beyond pretty much anyone he knew.

Blaine's stomach began to rebel against him as what Kurt had told him started to sink in. If it were true, if Kurt had meant what he said, where did that leave him? Had he been wrong all along? Had Alex been wrong about it all as well? What was he and where did he belong in all of this? What did he mean after all to Kurt? Was it truly possible that he wasn't just garbage to be thrown out? And what was it that Kurt had done? Had he cheated on him and that's what he was talking about? But no matter his reasoning, he had still gotten rid of Blaine with a single phone call, so that much Blaine knew to be true. He hadn't even been worth the cross town ride on the El.

It was just too much to comprehend at once. The questions buzzed in his head, and he felt dizzy. Blaine sat his bowl down on his lap after he'd only finished about half of what was in it. He couldn't eat anymore. It was already feeling like what he had managed to get down was going to come back up to greet him again. Staring down into the bowl as though it were something supremely interesting was helping distract him from the whirlwind his mind was currently in. He closed his eyes and tried to focus himself. He had to calm his breathing and get a handle on his nausea or he was going to lose it.

None of what Kurt had told him seemed possible. Ever since the day he answered the phone to Kurt's voice breaking his heart, he'd always assumed it had something to do with some unknown thing he had done. It had to have been some horrible wrong that he'd committed or that Kurt had finally realized about him. Otherwise, there would be no reason behind what had transpired between the two of them.

After eight years, it was difficult to suddenly change his view of all of that. And he couldn't really. Everything that had happened with Alex, much of their relationship was built on what Blaine had left his and Kurt's relationship with. It was nearly impossible for him to separate the two. He knew that without Kurt, he probably would never have ended up with Alex. Yes, Blaine had met Alex as he had moved in across the hall from him, but without the insecurities Kurt had left him with and without the knowledge that he was pretty much worthless, he might not have ever been with Alex. _Shit_. Without Kurt, he'd started to drink heavily, often and by himself. And that's how Alex had gotten ahold of him.

_It had been in late January during one of their movie nights that were quickly becoming routine, and since they'd only known each other a few weeks, they decided to have a game of "truth." They were only half paying attention to the movie – it was just some old movie on TCM. Alex was quickly convincing him that drinking games were fun, so they'd decided to make it "Drinking Truth." And it was kind of fun to cut loose with him. They decided that the rules would be that the person who asked the question would have to take a drink, and if you didn't want to answer you had to take ten drinks and if you answered flat out you wouldn't have to drink at all. _

_Their questions went round and round, both men getting gradually tipsier, much tipsier than Blaine had intended for a random Wednesday night. After the general questions that weren't much fun, the questions were mainly turning into sexual questions. Blaine was getting a bit nervous because Alex's questions were becoming much more pointed and he hadn't told him yet that he was gay. Blaine had just asked him how old he had been when he'd lost his virginity (16) and so he'd taken a drink and Alex hadn't. "So, Blaine, it's my turn and I have a question I just have to finally ask. Are you gay?" Alex looked at him with piercing eyes. Perhaps, Blaine thought, Alex was less drunk than he had let on and perhaps this game had been planned just a little. _

"_Um, yes, yes I am," Blaine responded quietly, staring into his drink. "My turn – same question." He took his required sip of beer and waited for the judgment of his new friend to rain down on him. _

"_Me too," Alex replied simply, taking his own drink for the original question. "Good. I thought so." Alex winked and smiled at Blaine when he met his eyes, which was rare, and they moved on with their game. _

_A few nights later, Alex came across the hall for just a few that turned into many more. Drinking was something that Alex was more into than Blaine, but it was college after all and Blaine did drink much more often now than he had before. And more so since he and Kurt had broken up. _

_When Alex walked through his door that night, he was later than usual and Blaine had already made his way through most of a six pack. Once he arrived, the shots started flowing and one drink led to another. _

_Blaine woke up sitting upright on his futon. His head pounded and it felt like his eyes would explode from the pressure in his head. At least he had woken up in his own dorm room. He stumbled over to his sink and grabbed a nearby bottle of pain killers. He took a lot and brushed his teeth. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like hell when he caught a view of himself in the mirror. He didn't notice the bright red mark on his neck, just above his collar._

_A quick check of his watch told him that he had only a few minutes to eat breakfast before he had to run to class, but he made it. Blaine vaguely remembered that Alexander had stopped by the night before, but it seemed that he had disappeared sometime in the night. Blaine had a bit of a memory that perhaps they'd gotten a little closer the night before – that perhaps a few lines had been crossed. As much as he tried to force his memory, he couldn't remember more than a few snippets of the time after Alex had popped by. They shared their first class of the day, so he was pretty sure he'd find out. It wasn't that he didn't find him attractive at all; it was just that he wasn't Kurt. He didn't have Kurt's gentleness or his caring manner, and Alex definitely had nothing on Kurt's looks. Blaine knew he had to get over that and soon – Kurt hadn't even talked to him in two and a half years. _

_When Blaine got to class, Alexander was saving his usual seat for him. "How ya feelin', lover boy?" he asked with a slightly leering grin. _

"_I guess that answers my question," thought Blaine. "God, what did we do?" He couldn't meet Alexander's eyes the rest of class and just concentrated on getting through the rest of the hour without puking. _

_He did a quick self-evaluation while he sat there in class and determined that he was pretty sure they hadn't had sex (he'd still be feeling that after being celibate for so long – even if he had given, not received). He was also pretty sure he'd remember if they did much more than make out because it would have been rather momentous for him. By the end of class, he was fairly certain that they'd only made out, but he wasn't totally sure what base they'd gotten to. The two boys headed back to their dorm rooms together and once they were walking through a more secluded part of campus, Alexander brought up the night before._

"_So, last night, huh? That was pretty great. I see you didn't even bother to cover up my, uh, my mark," Alex gave him a half smile and bumped into him as they walked. "Tequila is such a good time," he stated, looking at Blaine out of the corners of his eyes. _

"_Um, I guess. Mark? What mark? Tequila and I aren't quite as good of friends as you and it are, I suppose," replied Blaine, motioning to his still-aching head. _

"_Ha – you have a big hickey on your neck, Blaine! Didn't you even managed to look in the mirror before you left? You're happy it happened, though, right? I mean I'm pretty psyched for us to be together; you are pretty hot you know." He smiled at Blaine and reached over to hold his hand. "I was so sad when you weren't up in time to go to breakfast with me." _

_Blaine recoiled just a little from his touch, not squeezing Alex's hand back. "Fuck!" he thought. A hickey? And he'd walked all over campus with it uncovered. How horribly embarrassing. He was such an idiot. But Alex had told him he was hot. And evidently they'd made out; he'd had to have liked it to have let him give him a hickey. Blaine sighed to himself and glanced at Alex. He wasn't half bad looking and he was the first gay man to pay him any attention since Kurt. Maybe he'd give this a chance. It couldn't hurt, right?_

Kurt noticed him put down the bowl and his voice cut through the memory that had been pulling Blaine's mind. He asked Blaine if he was through. "Yeah. I can't eat anymore. I don't feel very well," he admitted. The thoughts of how he had ended up with Alex pretty much always made him sick. He hadn't even meant to be with him, really. And he didn't even remember their first kiss; how humiliating.

Kurt took his bowl from him, and he tried to help Kurt in the kitchen. Years of always cleaning up after another person took over and he offered to help, but Kurt turned him down and asked him to pick the movie. He couldn't have cared less what they watched and told Kurt as much. He was absolutely brimming with emotion, and now that he had a little energy, he felt like he could barely contain himself. He didn't know what to feel or how to feel it. He had flashes of anger followed very quickly by such strong self-loathing that he didn't know how a person could hate themselves as much as he hated himself. He was happy to have Kurt back in his life but felt that at any second he would drop him again and he'd be left exactly where he had been a few weeks before, only worse as now he knew how much he was missing. It was so completely overwhelming that his brain hurt and his heart ached.

Once whatever comedy Kurt had chosen had been playing a while he took a minute to close his eyes and just breathe, trying to calm himself. But then he felt it – Kurt's hand on his knee, well above his knee on the blanket that was covering him. Bile rose in his throat, and the anger he'd been suppressing broke loose. He lost it.

)))))

Kurt picked up the bowl on the coffee table closest to him and started to eat slowly, keeping watch over Blaine. He couldn't even taste it he was so engrossed in slyly watching the other man. Blaine seemed lost in thought, which was fine with Kurt. He was wrestling with his own demons. He felt horrible, having laid all that out to Blaine in such a manner. He had a problem with word vomit, evidently. He'd spilled his guts or at least part of them and hadn't really even asked Blaine any more about himself.

He felt horrible about that. He'd always concentrated on how their breakup had affected him and made him feel. He always made himself think that Blaine would be better off without him and without his issues. Kurt had figured that Blaine had moved on, dating and happy, moving through life without him. Since running into him a few weeks ago, it had become readily apparent that what Kurt had always figured had happened with Blaine wasn't true or even close to accurate. And here he still was, focusing on himself and telling Blaine things so that he felt better about himself, instead of concentrating on Blaine and helping him.

Blaine had always done that though - let him talk and quietly listening only interjecting when the need arose. He had been so good at that, always supporting Kurt no matter what his problem. Blaine had supported him with quiet encouragement, whatever his pursuits, since they had first met. It was one thing he had always been grateful for and loved him for – that no matter how silly or trivial his problems, Blaine had supported him without question. He may have provided a few wise words to guide him along, but never did he make him feel stupid or unimportant. Kurt wished that now he could do the same thing for Blaine. He needed it so much, it seemed, just to be supported unconditionally.

Kurt couldn't understand it, this pull he felt to Blaine. They hadn't even talked in eight years; it should feel like they were strangers. It should be awkward and weird. He knew nothing about the man sitting across the couch from him. He didn't know where he'd worked through school or his favorite band. He hadn't been there when he'd graduated and didn't even know who his friends were. Yet, it didn't feel that way. It felt like part of him had returned. It felt like he'd been there all along. And although he didn't know what happened to Blaine last month, last year or the year before that, he felt today as though he was back in high school hanging out with his best friend turned boyfriend.

But he wasn't. They weren't really anything. And no matter how much Kurt wanted to help Blaine and jump on this opportunity to have him back in his life, it didn't change the past. He could wish for it all he wanted, but it didn't really make a difference.

As much as Kurt had thought about Blaine over the past years, who knew what Blaine had thought and been through? He needed to quit concentrating on himself and his feelings and try to figure out what was going on with Blaine. Because that was who was important – Blaine. He needed to learn from his mistakes in the past and focus for once on Blaine instead of himself.

He noticed Blaine stop eating about half way through his bowl, which was probably more than he'd eaten in a while. Blaine had slowly set his bowl down in his lap, and he just stared into space, head slightly tilted towards the floor, eyes red and swollen on his sunken face. All Kurt wanted to do was to make the world better for Blaine, make whatever awfulness had gone on disappear and to erase his mistakes from Blaine's life.

"Hey, are you through or want a different kind or something?" he asked at a level just above the music. Blaine's eyes flitted over to him and back to the wall before he answered.

"No. I can't, um, can't eat anymore I don't think. I don't feel very well," Blaine replied after a few moments. At least he was answering when Kurt spoke to him now. That alone was progress to Kurt. His voice and his shoulders gave his exhaustion away, though, to someone who had been so good at reading his body language years ago. It seemed he could still read him.

"Here, let me take that then. I'll stick the leftovers in the fridge so if you're hungry later we can warm them back up quickly, okay? I'll be right back." Blaine looked at him, his eyes wide with apparent surprise as Kurt reached toward his lap and took the bowl gently from his hands. He put it back on the tray. He quickly took the extra into the kitchen and put covers on the bowls and the extra dishes in the dishwasher and sink. The heavier cleaning could be done later; now Kurt wanted to get back to Blaine before he ran off again.

He checked his phone quickly, finding a few missed calls, but none were of pressing importance, so he chose to ignore them until later. He heard a noise in the doorway and turned to see Blaine standing in the entryway to the kitchen awkwardly, twisting his hands and staring at his feet. "I thought I should help with the dishes and the putting away. I mean, I'd like to help."

Kurt looked at him slightly stunned. This was the most Blaine had said without being prompted first. It took him a moment to recover, but he did. "Don't worry about it, Blaine. You probably need to rest, especially if you don't feel well. Well, and I pretty much did it already." His mouth turned into a half smile and he tilted his head. No matter his condition, Kurt was just happy to have Blaine back in his life and standing in his kitchen. "How about instead you pick a beverage out of the refrigerator and we'll go back into the living room. We could talk or watch another movie or something. It's turned pretty nasty outside." He held up his phone with the weather report visible.

"Yeah, okay," Blaine slightly nodded at him and pulled open the refrigerator. Kurt got into the pantry and selected a bag of microwave popcorn, because it was his firm belief that there was always room for popcorn. When he put the bag in the microwave and set it correctly, he turned back around to see if Blaine needed anything to find him already gone out of the kitchen.

Kurt went back into the living room. He didn't know what Blaine liked now, so he hoped that whatever he'd had in the fridge was good enough. He set the popcorn and two bowls down on the coffee table in front of where Blaine sat on the couch. Kurt noticed that Blaine had shifted towards the middle of the couch and in front of him were an open bottle of water and a diet coke set in front of where Kurt had been sitting on the couch.

Blaine saw him looking at it and spoke, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted, but I saw it in the fridge and I remembered. . . ." he trailed off quickly, his eyes glassing over. He looked away then, not quite meeting Kurt's eyes.

"I thought we might get hungry again in a bit so I made the popcorn if you want some." Kurt sat down in his spot on the couch and continued to talk to Blaine, who was apparently staring out the window.

"What would you like to do? We can keep talking or watch a movie or something, whatever you want Blaine."

It took him a few moments to answer, but he did, voice faint over the background music playing in the living room. "Um, a movie would be fine or whatever. I'm kinda tired and don't feel the best." While he spoke, he drew his knees up toward his chest, effectively putting a wall between himself and Kurt.

"Hey a movie sounds great," Kurt replied in a possibly overly energetic voice. "I'm sorry you don't' feel well. Maybe some time just chilling on the couch will help. Or some ginger ale – I think I have some of that still warm. Would you like that?"

"Yeah, that'd be fine; I can try it at least. And can I have another blanket?" Blaine's responses seemed to be getting bolder, and his opinions were surfacing just a bit.

"Ok, hang on – why don't you pick a movie while I get that stuff?"

When he got back to the living room, Kurt noticed that Blaine had shifted back away from his spot again, keeping his knees up and hugging them protectively. He handed him the ginger ale which he'd poured in a glass and settled the extra blanket around Blaine.

"Did you pick one?"

"Um, well not really. Just, ah, pick something. Whatever will be fine."

Kurt could read the reluctance to even be in his apartment in Blaine's voice. He did have motive to keep him there though. He felt an urge to protect him, to keep him warm and safe and fed, because, well, he hadn't before and it was one of his biggest regrets. Strike that, his biggest regret. Blaine was worth so much more that he thought of himself, and so much more than Kurt was worthy of, but he had to try. So he grabbed a random comedy and stuck it in.

Settling back on the couch, it appeared Blaine was relaxing and just enjoying the film, sipping his soda. About half way through, Kurt noticed that Blaine had apparently fallen asleep, his head falling to the side and resting against the couch. He couldn't help himself, but scooted over closer to Blaine on the couch. He wanted nothing more than to be close to him. To feel him near again. So he ventured out a hand and laid it on his knee where it rested under the blankets.

As soon as his hand touched where Blaine's knees were under the blankets, he felt Blaine jolt upright. Blaine looked around confused and with wide, terror filled eyes. "What the hell, Kurt?" He tried to stand out from under the blankets, but struggled under them as they twisted. He just managed to push himself to the very edge of the couch, as far away from Kurt as he could.

"Wha? I'm, I'm sorry Blaine. I just wanted to touch you!" Kurt apologized, completely surprised, a pleading tone in his voice. He didn't understand what he'd done wrong. He just wanted to feel Blaine's heat underneath his hand. He wasn't trying anything or hiding any ulterior motives. He just finally was realizing how much he missed Blaine and was trying to connect to him the only way he thought he could.

"You can't, you can't just do that, Kurt! You don't have the right! Who do you think you are?" Blaine's knees came up to his chest again as the sobs rose in his throat and fell out of him, tears immediately streaking his face. His honey colored eyes, full to the brim with pain, met Kurt's for just the briefest of moments before his head fell to his knees and Kurt felt his heart break all over again.

"Blaine, Blaine, listen to me . . . I'm so sorry. I didn't, I didn't think. I didn't; I'm so sorry. Blaine, please calm down. I won't do it again. I just wanted to feel you close again. I'm sorry!" He was paralyzed where he was, afraid to move any closer, although his body was screaming at him to hold Blaine and to comfort him.

Blaine took a large breath, and the words just tumbled out: "You can't just ignore what happened. We're not the same. You left me, Kurt. You didn't tell me why. I thought I knew how my life was going to go – that I was going to get to spend the rest of it with you. That we'd move to New York when we were done in Chicago and get married and have a family and go to Ohio for the holidays. I thought we'd live on the Upper East Side. I thought we'd have a little puggle named Cogsworth and everything would be perfect."

He stopped to catch his breath, a whimper escaping his lips. He managed to continue, raising his head to meet Kurt square on, anger and bitterness flowing through him. "But you took that from me. You took my whole future and now you just pop back up and expect everything to be fine after one or two cups of coffee. Well it doesn't work that way. I'm broken and ruined. You have no idea who I am or what I've become. I'm nothing. You can't come into a person's life and just decide you can have your place back. You can't. You left me so long ago and shattered everything I'd ever wanted. And guess what? I've never gotten any of it. I live in a shitty one bedroom by myself. I have a job I hate, I'm single and I have no family. My parents don't want me; my big brother hasn't talked to me in years. I have no friends, and it's all I can do to get through one day. You can't fix me, Kurt. I'm too far gone and I'm not worth it. You proved that to me years ago when you could just leave me out of the blue. I've never doubted that because you said you'd never lie to me, so it had to be the truth."

Blaine finally stopped, sobs coming too fast for words to escape him. Kurt sat there dumbfounded, unable to even respond. What Blaine had described was what he had wanted too. The apartment together, the family, vacations home to Ohio when they could; hell, he even wanted the stupid little dog. He hadn't gotten any of it either. And for the millionth time in the past few weeks, he wondered why he had taken the coward's way out so long ago.

Blaine was moving to leave. He'd started to look around to find his jacket, and Kurt remembered the weather. He pulled out his phone quickly and checked. Just as he thought – the inclement weather he'd told Blaine about earlier had really hit. "Blaine, wait. I don't think you're going to be able to go."

"And why the hell not, Kurt? What reason do I have to stay? I don't belong here; you made that perfectly clear a long time ago. Why are you so set on hurting me even more?" Blaine spat out as he headed into Kurt's kitchen.

"Because, Blaine, I'm not trying to hurt you. I want you to stay. And you have to stay because while you were here, the rain turned into ice and it's now snowing on it. It's a freak November storm. Look out the window if you don't believe me," Kurt explained, exasperated and half grasping at any straw he could to get Blaine to calm down again.

Blaine walked to the curtain and pulled it back. The window had been covered in icy rain, but he was able to make out what looked like a half-inch of ice that was quickly being covered by a few inches of snow. Walking outside would be dangerous at best until the street crews came out, not to mention it would be dreadful trying to get a cab or even make it into the subway station. He was stuck. Whether he liked it or not.

**A/N: Please don't kill me for that. Blaine needed to get some of that pent up emotion out. Please let me know what you think! I would like to apologize in advance for the next month. I won't be writing much as I'm studying for the bar exam which I take at the end of February. I would love to concentrate more on this story, but with full time work and studying, it is making it nearly impossible. So please look forward to the end of February for a flurry of writing! Also, in the interim, I've started a series of one shots in this 'verse called Klaine Collection, you should check it out! Reviews are love!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you all for being so patient during my hiatus. I have taken the bar (won't know results anytime soon) and gotten over an illness that followed quickly after. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Again, a big thanks to my beta, bigeasybreezy, for her help! **

* * *

><p>"Fuck." Blaine trailed his fingers down the steel grey curtain. The snow and ice outside confirmed there was no way he'd be leaving Kurt's apartment anytime soon. Blaine's shoulders slumped a bit, and he moved back towards the couch and collapsed against it where he had been before. Nothing <em>NOTHING<em> was going his way. He should have never followed Kurt to his apartment, never even gone to meet him this morning. And now it was getting darker and evening was coming on and he was stuck here.

Kurt was just plain being awful, and after hearing all of that nonsense out of his mouth, Blaine had lost his cool and exposed way too much of what he actually thought. _Damn it,_ he was stupid. He wanted to escape; his heart pounded and his mind screamed at him to get out of there, to get anywhere but in Kurt's gaze, but damn this ice; there was no way he could.

His eyes instinctively skittered around the room looking for an escape. Finding none, as he knew he wouldn't, he sighed and resigned himself to things being once again out of his control. So instead of running, he moved back to the couch and tucked his legs up to his chest. He pulled a pillow up to his chest and rested his chin on it, burying his nose deep into it. Tears started to burn his eyes again, and he was at a loss to fight them off. He was so frustrated and the tears fell hotly, burning his cheeks as they fell, angering him even more. He was worthless, pathetic and crying over how he couldn't leave. What a fucking baby. Kurt must think he truly is a piece of garbage. A grown man crying over the fact that he can't leave. So fucking stupid.

He could hear Kurt moving to be closer to him, and he barely had the strength to address his presence other than to jerk further away from where he supposed Kurt was. He curled sideways into the couch, drew his knees closer to his chest and hugged the pillow tighter to him. "Stay away from me. I can't, I can't do this, Kurt. Just let me be, and I'll leave as soon as I can."

He managed to cut himself off before the word vomit started again. His face was getting red from his anger and frustration as well as the embarrassment coursing through him because of his reaction to having to stay. It was awful and what he had been trying to avoid. He hated feeling powerless, hated having everything out of his control. Normally, he could control something in his life, even if that something was as small as his eating, but now Kurt had taken even that away from him and nothing was up to him.

Blaine could sense Kurt kneeling near where he was sitting on the couch. A few moments passed and Blaine heard him sigh and he seemed to move away and go into the kitchen. It was only then that Blaine relaxed a little and let his guard slip. Head still buried in the pillow, he let his mind run. What was happening? Everything he'd said to Kurt was true. He'd lost everything, felt horrible for years, and was a worthless piece of shit. And Kurt couldn't come back to him now on a whim because it interested him for a millisecond to hang out with Blaine. It couldn't work that way.

Blaine had known for years that Kurt hadn't wanted him. He wasn't a toy and couldn't be picked up and dropped for Kurt's amusement. Blaine had let Kurt do enough damage. Blaine just couldn't open his heart up enough to let him in.

But Kurt had managed to wiggle his way in just a bit. It'd been over a month since they'd run into each other the first time. Kurt had tried to find him after that and seemed to be trying to reach him for some weird reason. He'd been nothing but nice since they'd met again. Blaine tried to wrap his head around his completely conflicted feelings, but it wasn't working well and his brain just felt stretched and stressed. He was already so tired from everything that had happened, and he didn't have much left to fight with.

Pain coursed through Blaine, making his heart physically ache and his breath come in short gasps. He knew heartache could physically hurt – he'd learned that thanks to Kurt. But this was somehow worse. Everything he'd wanted for years was coming true. Kurt was back in his life and wanted to be there, evidently. He was being so nice and caring; he looked just like he had so long ago, and his eyes shown with feeling when Blaine could manage to meet them. But Blaine felt that he desperately needed to keep Kurt away. Kurt had done this to him before, but long after he had been hooked. He couldn't let it get to that point again – he knew how that ended. Blaine desperately felt the need not to be noticed, to move through life in the background; otherwise everything hurt too much. He'd gone years not feeling and being able to hold all of this off, and now Kurt weaseled his way back in and the pain and anguish and the hurt that touched every inch of him all came back with him. And it sucked.

Blaine didn't know how long he sat there, crying slightly into the pillow, which he was also sure he was ruining because it was a micro-fiber kind of thing, and it somehow made him feel better. Knowing that something in Kurt's life wouldn't be so perfect – that maybe he would hurt a little too. He felt so stupid thinking this because it was just a pillow, but it was at least something – something that wouldn't be perfect in Kurt's life because of him.

The tears eventually stopped coming, and he wondered where Kurt was. He couldn't have left the apartment, but Blaine was grateful that he'd given him some time by himself. He wiped the last of his tears on the pillow and turned his head to the side, taking in the rest of the room. His eyes swept over the immaculately clean living room, walls lined with bookshelves which appeared to be extremely organized with a decently sized entertainment center in the middle which he had seen before when he'd been there. The walls were various shades of grey and matched the art on the walls perfectly, much of which included pictures of Kurt's family in black and white. He hadn't been thinking much the last time he was there, and it seemed like he was taking it all in for the first time.

Seeing Kurt's family pictures on the wall, all professionally done some time after his graduation, made Blaine's heart ache even deeper. There was Finn's dopey grin and Carole and Burt looking at each other with such love. The largest of the photos, in a place of honor among the rest, was a picture of the four of them, arms across each others' shoulders, Kurt and Finn in the middle, all of them smiling with such joy at being together. It was the family Blaine had always wanted to be a part of. Every problem he'd had with his own family vanished when he was with Kurt's.

They'd practically adopted him their last year in high school and their first year in college. When he went home for the weekend, it was always to Kurt's with a short stop at his own parents' house. Kurt's parents, they never yelled at him or called him a disappointment, they didn't ignore him or tell him how dreadful he was at everything he tried. They came to his performances and hugged him when he was done. They had included him in the family photos when all three boys graduated high school, telling him he was one of theirs now.

But they hadn't seen him in years. How ashamed they would be of him. They had lied too, when they told Blaine he was one of theirs. They'd never reached out to him after Kurt had broken his heart. Except for the box of cookies he received for Christmas the year Kurt had dumped him from Carole with a little note telling him to hang in there, he hadn't heard from any of them again. They'd hate him now for sure, just like his own family did and just how Blaine hated himself. Why would they be any different?

Blaine sat up slowly, and stretched out his back, which ached in protest at sitting in the same position for too long. His neck was full of knots as well, but he ignored the pain, almost welcoming it; he'd take physical pain over his heart aching always. It made it easier to ignore the heartache. Finally his eyes went to the doorway to the kitchen. He could hear a teapot start to whistle and stop as someone, presumably Kurt, took it off the burner. While he was staring at the archway where a faint but warm light was filtering in from the kitchen, Kurt appeared.

"Hey," he said softly, leaning up against the entry way into the living room. "I, um, I made some tea, if you'd like. I had some of that chamomile you used to like so much and I thought, well, if you don't that's okay too."

_Damn it, Kurt_, Blaine thought. Always being so perfect and knowing exactly what he needed before even he did. It wasn't fair. He wanted to be left alone, but Kurt seemed to be so good at finding little ways to chip away at him and get down to everything he'd kept hidden. "Um, yeah," his voice cracked slightly, emotion hanging heavy in it, "I'd like some, I think."

"Okay, I'll bring you a cup. No sugar or cream, right?" Blaine looked up at him, a bit dazed, and nodded his head in response.

"No sugar, no cream," he responded quietly. He rested his head on the pillow again, facing the room and contemplating. It was a little unsettling that Kurt remembered these little things about him after all this time. He remembered the same little things about Kurt like how he preferred his coffee in the morning and how Diet Coke won out above all other beverages after 11 in the morning, about how he hung his clothes and the order he ironed them in, but Blaine had always figured that everything about him was trivial and Kurt wouldn't be bothered to remember those type of things about him. He wasn't that important.

His brain throbbed with the heavy thoughts weighing it down. His knees started to shake, and he could feel the tremors in his arms where they wrapped around them. He was falling apart. He'd held it together for so long. What was Kurt doing to him? And why the hell did he have this power when all Blaine wanted was to disappear.

Kurt came back in a few minutes later and handed Blaine a steaming mug. It smelled delicious, and Blaine couldn't help smile a little as he held it right under his face, the heat of it warming him and offering comfort. He ignored Kurt as he set his own cup down on the coffee table in front of the couch and sat near Blaine. He eventually did glance up at him when Kurt didn't move from where he was sitting to even pick up his mug.

The silence was becoming increasingly awkward, and so Blaine said the only thing he could think of, "'S good. Thanks," and looked away quickly again, sipping tentatively at the hot liquid, enjoying the burn as it made its way down his throat.

Kurt cleared his throat and ducked his head to get into Blaine's line of vision. "Hey," he started quietly, "I want to talk with you about something, but I need to know that you'll listen to me. Can you do that for me? I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but it would mean a lot to me if you would. Please?" Kurt's voice had a pleading tone to it that made Blaine want to listen to him despite all his reservations to the contrary.

"I . . . I," Blaine couldn't think of an excuse not to listen to him. "Fine." It would be easier to just shut up and let him talk. He didn't have to listen if he didn't want to. He could just let him talk and sip his tea and leave as soon as possible. Kurt couldn't control him. What could a few words he could tune out hurt? But he wasn't prepared for what came out of Kurt's mouth and within moments his eyes were glossy with tears again.

* * *

><p>Kurt had fucked up. He knew he had. Blaine was so precious and he just didn't seem to understand that fact. Blaine was worth ten times what he was, in his opinion. He was so brilliant and funny, talented in so many ways, and he'd loved Kurt with a fierceness that he'd missed ever since. Kurt had never doubted his relationship with Blaine, never thought about even the possibility of Blaine cheating on him or leaving him because it wasn't Blaine; it wasn't them. That is, until he'd screwed everything up.<p>

And now he was doing it again, screwing everything up just when he'd gotten a chance to fix a few things. Blaine had collapsed back into "his" spot on the couch and was curling away from Kurt and in on himself. Kurt knew Blaine needed some time to himself after realizing that he was stuck here after his outburst, and Kurt needed some time to himself to decide how to approach him again. They were stuck in his apartment at least for the time being, and he needed to use this time to the best of his ability to break through to Blaine. He wasn't sure he'd be able to find him again after Blaine left this time.

He moved closer towards Blaine, just wanting to touch him or reassure him in some way, but he heard him tell him to get away, to leave him be. Kurt had to force himself to walk the other way, back out to the kitchen and give Blaine some space. He hesitated in the archway between the kitchen and living room, glancing back at his old love curled on the couch in obvious anguish. Kurt could feel the last of his heart shatter at the sight; Blaine never deserved any of whatever had happened to him. It absolutely broke Kurt's heart.

Kurt knew he had done this to Blaine. He'd started it, in any case, and it was his responsibility to fix what he could. Kurt sighed, walking into the kitchen. It wasn't just his responsibility; he wanted to do it as well. He wanted to see Blaine bounce into a room with that big ridiculous grin on his face excited over some new artist or some new discovery he'd made. Kurt missed those moments dearly, and he desperately wanted to do whatever he could in his power to bring them back.

He puttered around the kitchen a bit, not really cleaning, and strained his ears to hear any noise out of Blaine in the other room. He heard nothing but muffled sobs coming from the other man and decided to leave him alone for a while longer.

He knew touching Blaine had triggered him in some way. It broke his heart to know that his touch, just his fingertips through layers and layers of fabric would cause such a reaction out of a man he had once shared everything with and touched everywhere. His mind felt like a broken record, repeating over and over to itself that there was something so wrong with Blaine. Something had happened. But the real question wasn't what had happened; rather it was how to get even a minuscule amount of trust back so he could help him in some way.

Hot tea had always helped Kurt think better, so after a few minutes of sitting at his kitchen table trying to rack his brains for ideas, he decided to make a kettle. As he poured water into his cherry red kettle, he remembered how much Blaine used to love chamomile tea in the evenings. He put the kettle on to boil and waited for the whistle. Once it started he moved it to his trivet and went to check on Blaine to offer him a cup.

Blaine had his head turned to the side, apparently surveying the room. His amber eyes were red-ringed from crying, dark circles still evident underneath. Slight quiet hiccups were hitching his breath, giving away his recent sobs, and his arms were still tugging his knees close to his chest. He was the image of insecure and damaged. All Kurt wanted to do was run over and hold him close. He had to fight every instinct he was feeling to stop himself from acting on his impulse and hurrying over to him; it would have disastrous results if his touching Blaine's knee had been any indication.

"Hey, I, um, I made some tea, if you'd like. I had some of that chamomile you used to like so much and I thought, well, if you don't that's okay too." Kurt tried to read Blaine's face as best he could, but it was difficult with the lights low and Blaine tucked up on himself all the way across the room. His eyes seemed to scrunch closed at Kurt's words, and he seemed to struggle to find an answer.

"Yeah, I'd like some, I think." Kurt heard Blaine's voice crack in the middle and chose to ignore it. It just solidified to him that something was very wrong, and if he was lucky, on that fateful day a month or so ago he'd run into Blaine in time.

"Okay," Kurt replied a little on the cheerful side, "I'll bring you a cup. No sugar or cream, right?" Kurt was hoping that he remembered this correctly. He wanted to make it the way Blaine preferred, but he also wanted to show him that he remembered. He remembered everything.

Kurt remembered the way Blaine's curls were tousled in the morning when they woke up together, bodies pressed tightly in the morning, the way his eyes smiled first as he woke up, how it was always no sugar, no cream, and how his bow ties always hung on the back door of the bathroom to air dry. He would never forget these details, even after eight years. It was these details about Blaine that had made Kurt still feel so closely tied to him. Without them, he would have let Blaine slip away.

Blaine's quiet voice came from across the room, "No sugar, no cream." Kurt nodded in response and went back into the kitchen to get the kettle and the cups. He brewed the tea as quickly as he could and brought it back into the living room with him. A thought came to him while the tea was steeping, and he decided it would be the best route to approach Blaine. It was a long shot, but it was all he had and Kurt was running out of excuses to find him and keep him close.

Kurt maneuvered back into the living room, handing Blaine his cup when he reached for it and setting his own down on the coffee table in front of them. He sat as near to Blaine's tucked up legs as he could without risking setting off a reaction. He faintly noticed that Adele was still crooning in the background and he waited. Blaine finally glanced up at him from his cup.

"'S good. Thanks," Blaine's eyes shifted away from him again as he looked anywhere but at Kurt.

"Hey," Kurt started quietly, "I want to talk with you about something, but I need to know that you'll listen to me. Can you do that for me? I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but it would mean a lot to me if you would. Please?" Kurt's voice became pleading at the end, and his hands started to shake faintly. The hope he held in his heart showed through with the slight rise in his voice, his body leaning marginally closer to Blaine's. Either he noticed the movement or his mind subconsciously registered it and a following "get away" thought, but he also moved backwards, away from Kurt, only stopping when his back pressed against the couch arm.

"I. . . I," Blaine paused and seemed to resign himself to listening to Kurt. "Fine."

Kurt decided to plow ahead, trying to get through to Blaine with his last ditch effort to reach the other man. Kurt took a deep breath and angled himself into Blaine's line of vision, even if he wouldn't meet his eyes.

"A long time ago, when I first met you, Blaine, you were so amazing. From the beginning, I was so . . . so captivated by you. You'd already been through so much and come out stronger on the other end. You showed me what it was to be me, how to be me in this shitty world. You were the only one there for me who told me that if I had courage I could get through all the crap and hurt and heartache and just be me. You helped me to become the man I had always wanted to be. _You_ did that; before we were even together you were the most amazing, strong, and caring person I'd ever met.

That man, Blaine, is still inside you. He's still there; that amazing man you were before I did this to you, before the world came down on you. You just need to dig deep enough to find him. And I want to help. No matter what happened after me or what I did wrong, you were completely blameless in our break-up and I accept how horrible what I did was. I don't know what happened after us, but I know I did this damage and I want to help you get through it. I was right about myself – I didn't deserve you and I wasn't worthy of you. But you – you're still that amazing man who convinced me to keep going, that my life was worth living. And yours is too, Blaine. Despite everything, you are still you and that's pretty fantastic. I want to help you any way I can, just like you taught me to. We can still find you in there Blaine, through the hurt and pain I put you through and everything else that's been thrown on top. If you'll let me help. Please."

Kurt searched Blaine's eyes the entire time he spoke, looking for recognition, understanding, hope, anything. About half way through, they flickered over to Kurt's and held, amber and shiny with unshed tears. As he finished speaking, Kurt tentatively reached out and offered his hand to Blaine, hoping he would take it and with it accept the help and support Kurt was offering him. He didn't dare touch Blaine, but waited, desperate for Blaine to choose to move to him.

Blaine's eyes flickered between Kurt's eyes and his outstretched hand. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and sighed so quietly Kurt wasn't even sure if he heard it. Blaine seemed to struggle with himself for a few seconds before tentatively letting go of his cup with one hand and reaching toward Kurt. Kurt couldn't believe it; Blaine seemed to move in slow motion as Kurt watched his hand meet Blaine's. First it was just the light brush of his fingertips, seconds later becoming more firm and sure. Blaine was shaking, and Kurt could feel the tremors reaching his hand as though all of Blaine's unsaid, unaddressed emotion was vibrating through his body. His hands were light, and slightly warm from the cup, but the bones protruded even in his hands, and they seemed delicate somehow.

"Okay then," Kurt responded to Blaine's taking his hand. Kurt tried to suppress a giant grin and squeezed Blaine's hand slightly, trying to reassure him that he'd made the right decision. "Why don't we watch a movie or something and just enjoy the evening then, alright?" He smiled at Blaine who smiled just a bit in response and nodded. Kurt let Blaine's hand settle back on the pillow after another squeeze and moved to restart the film they had begun to watch earlier.

As Kurt got everything set up again, he smiled to himself. Blaine had touched him on his own; he'd made a small step forward in accepting that Kurt genuinely wanted to help him. It was slight, but it was something. Kurt finally had some small amount of trust to work with. He wanted to jump up and down and hug Blaine and grin from ear to ear, but he knew that any of that would ruin the small bridge he had just built with Blaine. He would do anything to preserve that. So instead, he went back to the couch and picked up his slightly cold tea. He settled near Blaine, but not touching him and offered him his hand again, which Blaine took with only slight hesitation.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope you enjoyed! Reviews are love! I'm so glad to be back writing and will be trying to update more frequently now. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks to all those sticking with this story! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and as always, thanks so much to my beta, bigeasybreezy! She makes the whole editing process so much easier!**

* * *

><p>The only light in Kurt's living room came from the images playing on the television screen and from the kitchen through the archway. The low light in the room made it seem like it was the extent of the world to Blaine. He was safe there and it felt welcoming, the warmth of the grey walls calming. They were still sitting near each other on the couch, only their hands touching, each lost in his own world. Kurt's couch was more comfortable than Blaine remembered and the blankets surrounding him gave him a sense of security. From time to time, throughout the film, Blaine felt Kurt's hand move in his, and he would glance down at his hand with a slightly surprised look on his face and then look up at Kurt who appeared to be staring lost in thought at the TV. His thumb occasionally grazed the back of Blaine's hand, reassuring him and drawing his attention to their contact.<p>

As the movie played on, Blaine wasn't even sure what it was. But he used the time to think. The soft touch of Kurt's hand, fit perfectly into his own small cold one reminded him of what he had been missing and held him in the present, keeping him from panicking. He focused on his inner demons and fighting back what was trying to overtake his mind and his control. Momentary panic would overtake his brain when he felt Kurt so close and in his hand. He had to work to control his breathing.

Blaine tried to focus on the comforting atmosphere in the room and finally being around another person he wasn't afraid of. But thoughts kept breaking through and bothering him. He didn't know why he'd taken Kurt's hand, didn't know why he'd let him in. The voice in his head was telling him that he couldn't let himself be open enough to feel again, but he was discovering that he felt slightly comforted at Kurt's touch. His mind was struggling to comprehend what was going on around him and in his heart.

He didn't want to believe Kurt. He was wrong. Kurt had lied to him before-told him all the same things—and believing him had led Blaine to where he was now. Kurt would tell him anything to get in his life again. But when Blaine met his eyes while he spoke, his words seemed to come straight from his heart. Blaine hadn't seen lies and deceit in Kurt's eyes; he'd seen caring and warmth and reflections of what could be for him. He was so conflicted. He couldn't figure out what he was supposed to think; his mind was exhausted with his efforts to figure out what was going on in his warring heart and mind.

No matter if it was true or not, what Kurt had told him was a lot to take in. Blaine didn't know why he wanted to believe him. It would be so much easier to just retreat into his head while he was forced to be at Kurt's and then leave at the soonest possible time. He could escape then and never have to see Kurt again, never have the heartbreak that he could already see coming. His heart throbbed in his chest, warning him that pain was coming - deep relentless soul devouring pain. Kurt was the reason he even knew such pain existed. Yet Blaine still felt an inclination to try to reach out and take the help Kurt was offering him. He supposed it was the damned optimism of his youthful days breaking through at the least opportune time when his mind was telling him to run and not get hurt again.

Yet, what Kurt had said to him _had_ gotten through somewhat. It had split in through _idiot_, through _worthless_, _pain in the ass_, _fuck-up_, and _insignificant piece of trash_. Blaine knew he'd changed a lot since they were young and together, a lot since even before Kurt. Back then he'd believed in himself; he had thought that he could conquer the world if he only wanted to. He had been so strong, and not scared of everything like he was now. Back then Kurt had meant so much to him, and even though towards the end they'd had some issues, he had never doubted Kurt's commitment to him and their shared love. Before Kurt, he'd been through pain from his family and from bullies, but he hadn't let it get to him. He had pulled himself above it and had helped Kurt to do the same in his own life.

But after Kurt had left him without explanation, it had been too difficult to pull himself back up, too difficult to tread water and keep his head up. So he hadn't. He'd just been. And then, when he was with Alex he'd always thought that the way he had been before was just part of being young, stupid and naive. Perhaps that wasn't the case. Perhaps, the way he had been before everything was really the way he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be happy, loved, silly and strong. _Fuck_. He didn't know what to think. His mind was spinning, reeling, making him feel out of control. His vision started to blur and even Kurt's hand couldn't keep him grounded anymore.

His body knew before his mind did. He was going to be sick. He dropped Kurt's hand like a rock, and his hands tore at the blankets wrapped around his body, trying to untangle himself from the twisted warmth. He finally escaped and made a mad dash toward where he thought the bathroom would be. Blaine threw the door shut behind him and barely got kneeling in time. He started to dry heave, willing his body to not vomit to stop the cycle. The bile rose in his throat and he fought it down.

His mind hurt, the headache throbbing through his skull making him feel like his whole head was pulsing; his chest heaved as his stomach did the same, trying to bring up the remnants of his lunch. The room seemed to spin as his hands found his knees and he curled onto the floor as his mind finally won and he stopped himself from vomiting. Blaine took deep shuddering breaths, trying to calm himself down. His heart was racing out of control and he felt so clammy and cold and wet all at the same time. It was too much, too much. When the urge to retch finally stopped, he reached a hand up to tip the lid of the toilet shut, and he shifted so he was leaned back against the door, tiles gratefully cold against his hands and the soles of his feet through his socks, knees pulled up toward his chest. After a few minutes he heard a light knocking on the door, directly above his head.

"Blaine? Are you alright? Can I get you anything?" Kurt's voice was so low and quiet it sounded like a whisper and Blaine almost wondered if he imagined it on the other side of the door. The room was dark, lit only by a plug-in night light. He'd been in such a hurry to find the bathroom that he hadn't turned on the overhead light. It was calming, the cool floor, the low light, being alone in the darkness the familiar feeling of a fitful stomach. The door was locked, he was alone and no one could break into his world unless he let them. His heart slowed slightly and he ignored Kurt's pleas even as he heard him right outside the door. He took long moments and reveled in the feeling of alone and dark and safe.

Blaine thought that for a long time he'd wanted to be back to the person he'd been before, the one Kurt had been talking about, but hadn't ever been able to figure out how to even start. So he just hadn't. He just existed after Kurt left him, and when Alex came along, he'd tried to fix everything from before, to not make the same mistakes. He tried to do everything in his power to keep Alex and to make him happy, even to the point of sacrificing himself. That had led to everything being so screwed up and their relationship growing into some weird creature unlike anything he'd seen before. Blaine's mind started to pull him into a panic. What was he doing here? Why had he taken Kurt's hand? Why was he letting him in?

And just as the bile started to rise in his throat for a second time, he remembered the tiny, faintly familiar movement of Kurt's thumb against the back of his hand, while they had sat on the couch. The movement had been silently reassuring and grounded him in the moment. He remembered it from years past; it mirrored the first steps they'd taken together as a couple on a couch in Kurt's house when they were just teenage boys. The first tentative movements of showing each other that they cared about the other. Leaned against the door in the dark on the chilly tile, Blaine took his left hand and ghosted it over the spot Kurt had been touching. He may have imagined it, but he thought that spot felt just a little warmer to him. Blaine's hands had started to shake again as his thoughts had gotten progressively more terrified. The slight movements of Kurt's thumb helped him concentrate on keeping the thoughts of Alex and how wrong this was from taking over his brain.

Maybe it was time, the thought crossed his mind, to let someone in, to reach out for some help. He didn't want to; it was so much easier to avoid everything, but Kurt being around again and what he'd told him not an hour ago made him really think about his life and how it was playing out. He hadn't talked to anyone without being forced to for either work or absolute necessity in years, now that he thought about it. No friends called anymore; they were too busy with their own lives to think about a man who had pushed them out of his. His cell phone could go weeks or months even with no incoming phone calls. His parents didn't want anything to do with him any more either, nor did Cooper, really. Cooper called when he felt like it – when it fit his schedule and when he wanted something from Blaine. He never called to check on his cases or his love life or even just to say hi. It was always, "Hey, Blaine. Here's the thing. . ." Which never turned into, "How are you really doing, little bro? I haven't seen you in a year or two."

He didn't matter to the parents either. He no longer considered them "his parents;" they were just "the parents." They had stopped calling him years ago. He had continued to check in for a while, until he realized that all the phone calls with them were outgoing. He'd stopped calling as a bit of an experiment and was not surprised to find that they never called. That had been nearly four years ago, in the middle of his life with Alex. They still made an obligatory call near his birthday and on major holidays, but it was always less than ten minutes and consisted of mainly niceties that didn't matter. They never asked him to visit, and that was the part that always hurt at the end of the conversation.

It was just as Alex had pointed out at the time: they didn't really care about him. They didn't come to visit – even though he'd been in Chicago at the time, and it wasn't that far away. They didn't call or email, though he knew they did with Cooper. Cooper the golden boy. Never mind that Cooper was still dependent and required their help with nearly everything. Cooper was perfect; Blaine was the follow-up who never quite measured up to expectations. Never mind that Cooper had been arrested, and Blaine had been blamed for not being there to keep his big brother out of trouble. The parents paid the attorney's fees and Blaine took the heat for being irresponsible. He still hadn't quite figured that one out.

His phone beeped in his pocket, and he fumbled for it in the dark. The phone never went off. Ever. He glanced at it and discovered he'd received a text. It was from Kurt: "Courage. You gave it to me once and saved me. Let me help you find yours."

He had no tears left or they would have been streaming down his face. He stared at the phone until it went dark. He could hear Kurt on the other side of the door, evidently also sitting leaned against the other side of the door he was leaning on. Mirror images of each other in completely different mind sets, so desperate for something but not there yet.

He pushed himself up slowly to standing as his legs protested the movements. His hands gripped the countertop, and he looked at his dark image in the mirror, mostly looking like a ghost of himself due to the low light. He could see the exaggerated lines of his face highlighted by shadows, his unruly hair over his gaunt face. His lips were thin and ragged from him chewing on them. Was this what he'd become? He remembered seeing something so different in the mirror years ago, a healthy and vibrant version of himself. He couldn't stand the sight of what he'd become any longer. And if he couldn't even look at himself, who else could? Blaine made a snap decision and didn't even let himself think about it before he acted. He turned away from the mirror and grabbed the door handle. As the door opened, he could see Kurt scrambling to stand just on the other side. Blaine didn't know how long he'd been in the bathroom, but he was stiff from sitting on the hard floor. He fidgeted back and forth on his feet while Kurt finally got on his, standing on the other side of the door jamb facing him.

Before he could stop himself, Blaine acted on his snap decision. He took a deep breath and reached out for Kurt. His thin arms encircled Kurt and pulled him close. He buried his face in Kurt's shirt on his chest near his neck. "Kurt?" Blaine started in a small voice. He felt Kurt's strong arms reach around his shoulders and rest there, holding him close.

"Yeah?"

"I, um, I think I need some help," Blaine finished, his voice below even a whisper. Kurt was close enough that he was still able to hear him. Kurt's arms tightened around Blaine's shoulders, then went down Blaine's back, rubbing small, light circles.

"Anything for you, Blaine, anything. If you need help, I'll get it for you. I'll help you find it. Anything, anything," Kurt's voice tapered off and his other hand reached up to Blaine's neck and stuck in his curls. Blaine felt surrounded by Kurt, held and tight and safe. His chest seemed to loosen up, and he let go of the first bit of pain he could. Kurt held him there for several long moments, the two of them reconnecting, lost in each other, the only movement, Kurt's comforting motions on Blaine's back. He held him until Blaine slightly pulled away.

"I'm sorry Kurt. For. . . for . ." He never got to finish. Kurt cut him off.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Blaine," Kurt's blue eyes drilled into Blaine's, driving home what he was saying. "You're here and letting me in and I couldn't be happier because of it. Whatever you need or want. Anything. I mean it, okay?"

Blaine nodded his head slightly and took his bottom lip between his teeth. Kurt turned him and led him back toward the living room. Blaine stood by as Kurt pulled even more blankets out and moved the coffee table out of the way. He pulled the cushions off the couch and arranged them on the floor with the mound of blankets. When he was satisfied, he nodded to himself and sat down looking up expectantly at Blaine.

"Come here, you. You can't leave tonight. I'm not going to let you, and neither is the weather. So we'll have a blanket nest and just be. Tomorrow we'll figure out what we're going to do, alright?" Kurt smiled at him, the soft smile he used to give Blaine when he was completely lost in them, hopeful and happy.

"Alright," Blaine agreed and settled in next to Kurt, closer than he'd been before. The fight had completely left him. He didn't have enough anger or fear left in him to fight against this. He had reached the end of it, and all he had left was to either be done with it all or try to get better. And since Kurt had found him and pulled him out, he wanted to get better. All desperation had left him, and the will to get through everything was growing in him, even if he didn't know it yet.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't know what to think when Blaine ripped his hand from Kurt's and made a mad dash towards the bathroom. The door slammed behind him before Kurt could even get himself up off the couch where he'd been sitting. One second he was lost in the movie, thinking everything was going well. Blaine was seeming to enjoy the movie, and he was enjoying just being close to Blaine for the first time in years.<p>

Their time together had been starting to make him think about everything he'd lost over time. How much he'd dreamed about them being together long term and what he'd screwed up. He knew he was going to have to tell him eventually what happened. He'd always felt guilty about it, but he sincerely thought he'd been doing Blaine a favor by not telling him what a shitty person his boyfriend had been, but he knew now that was exactly the opposite of what Blaine needed.

Blaine hadn't been able to recover from it, evidently. Kurt had inadvertently tortured him even longer this way, cruelly depriving him of the happiness they'd shared, with no explanation. The time would come, though, and soon Kurt would need to tell Blaine. He knew he'd ask questions, or maybe not come right out and ask but would want to know. And he owed him that at the very least.

It wasn't Blaine's fault that Kurt had done what he did while Blaine was away visiting Wes and David. He didn't know about the weeks long buildup and the frustration that Kurt had been going through. He had truly been cornered and hadn't thought there was another way out. It wasn't his fault that Kurt had kept it to himself, trying to handle everything and once again keep everything under control with no assistance. It had all blown up in his face and he knew he was a failure and a disappointment who didn't deserve Blaine. He needed to escape and redefine himself and so he'd let go of the one thing he didn't think he was worthy of anymore- the only thing he had that was worth anything to him – Blaine. And it was the biggest mistake of his life.

And now he knew exactly how big of a mistake it had been. Blaine had been through so much without him, and he didn't even know where to start. It was all so frustrating, being on the outside and wanting nothing more than to see Blaine's old smile, but once again doubting his worthiness of the wonderful man in front of him.

So he followed Blaine a few minutes later to the door of the bathroom and listened. He could hear Blaine heaving on the other side, broken by sobs, and finally the toilet lid slamming shut and what sounded like Blaine's head coming to rest right below where Kurt's ear was leaned against the door.

Kurt didn't know if Blaine had heard his approach and didn't want to embarrass him by letting him know that he'd heard his retching. He quietly knocked against the wooden door: "Blaine? Are you alright? Can I get you anything?" His voice was quiet and low, trying not to startle the other man, but rather to reassure him that he was there.

Moments passed and no response came from the other side of the door. The moments stretched into long minutes, no sound coming from the other side of the door. Kurt leaned his back against the bathroom door and slid down it, knees up, sitting leaned against the door, and waited. He'd wait forever if he had to. He felt a need in his chest to be close to Blaine, even through a locked door.

His position became a bit uncomfortable after he'd been there about half an hour. He couldn't hear anything on the other side of the door except Blaine shifting a little against the door himself. Kurt knew he was okay, hadn't done anything to himself in there that he needed to be worried about because he hadn't heard anything else. But he stayed close just in case.

Something was digging into his thigh uncomfortably, and he pulled his phone out of his front pocket. He did have Blaine's number in there now from the earlier phone call. He wasn't sure if Blaine had his phone with him, but he was willing to chance that he did. Kurt stared at the screen for a few minutes before deciding what to write, settling on something that had meant so much to them both, pleading in his own way to Blaine to let him be there for him. "Courage. You gave it to me once and saved me. Let me help you find yours."

Kurt hit the send button and waited. A vibration muffled by the door sounded, and he heard Blaine moving around to get his phone out. He imagined him sliding open his phone and reading. He couldn't guess his response; he could only hope that this tactic would work, would elicit some response out of the broken, struggling man.

Minutes passed again, and then he could hear a scrabbling. The door swung open behind him unexpectedly, and he half toppled over before righting himself and getting his feet underneath him to stand. He pushed himself up and looked into Blaine's shining eyes.

Blaine met him, and his feeble arms reached up toward him. They were stick thin and wavered a bit in the air, unsure and weak. Kurt shuffled slightly closer, and they found their way around his waist, pulling him slightly closer. Blaine's head rested lightly on his chest, finding an old place where it had rested many times so many years ago. Kurt's heart stuttered in his chest and started to pound ferociously at their closeness, at holding Blaine again.

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice was small and weak; it sounded so defeated and sluggish that Kurt wondered if he'd finally just given up. If the Blaine he knew was completely gone, disappeared into the shell of a man he'd found weeks ago.

"Yeah?" Kurt's voice broke over the small word, afraid of what Blaine would say. Terrified of what he would hear next. His chin brushed against the soft curls on top of Blaine's head.

"I, um, I think I need some help," Blaine wobbled at the end of the statement, his voice unsure of the words coming out of his mouth. Kurt barely heard him, but he did. The words were whispered into his ear like the quietest plea he'd ever heard. Kurt tightened his arms around Blaine's shoulders and settled him in closer. One hand deliberately moved lower, to Blaine's back and started to rub small circles between his shoulder blades, just like he'd done years ago when Blaine was nervous about an audition or upset about a bad grade. It had never failed to comfort him at least some.

"Anything for you, Blaine, anything. If you need help, I'll get it for you. I'll help you find it. Anything, anything," He didn't think he'd ever heard more beautiful words. Blaine wanted to get better; he was reaching out, willing to go beyond whatever it was he'd been through. Kurt's heart continued to thud in his chest, but now it echoed with pride in his ex-boyfriend. Blaine had always been so strong, no matter what he'd been through. Now he wasn't willing to give up and let everything be taken from him again. Kurt's eyes stung with tears as his other hand reached up for Blaine's curls. He twined his fingers in them and hugged him close. Kurt could feel Blaine relaxing just slightly into his arms. He whispered nonsensical things into his hair and savored their closeness for as long as Blaine allowed it.

Time seemed irrelevant as Kurt held onto Blaine, but eventually Blaine pulled away just slightly. "I'm sorry Kurt. For. . . for . ." Kurt couldn't let him continue.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Blaine," Kurt pushed him back just a bit by the shoulders, so he was forced to meet Kurt's eyes. He wanted Blaine to have no doubts about what he was saying. "You're here and letting me in, and I couldn't be happier because of it. Whatever you need or want. Anything. I mean it, okay?"

Blaine nodded at him, and Kurt prayed to every non-existent deity he could think of that Blaine actually understood and believed him. Kurt's mind raced as he tried to decide where to go from this moment, but he let instinct take over. He moved them both back toward the living room and started gathering every blanket, pillow, and cushion he could find, piling them in the middle of the floor. One of Blaine's favorite things when they were younger was to make forts out of blankets and random furniture, and he was going to create something similar, if just a nest of comfortableness in the middle of his living room. It hopefully wouldn't freak Blaine out like sleeping in a bedroom would, and then they didn't even have to have a conversation about it.

Blaine watched him from the corner of the room, and when he was finished, he settled himself in the misshapen mess and half smiled at Blaine. He beckoned to him, "Come here, you. You can't leave tonight. I'm not going to let you, and neither is the weather. So we'll have a blanket nest and just be. Tomorrow we'll figure out what we're going to do, alright?" Kurt's smile got a bit bigger as Blaine moved toward him.

Blaine sat down gingerly in the pile before snuggling down into the blankets and pillows that all smelled slightly of lavender and sandalwood. A smile ghosted across his lips as his head hit a pillow and Kurt started up the movie. "Alright."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! There were very few reviews on the last chapter, so I am so grateful to everyone who's still reading! This story means a lot to me and I hope you readers still like it! I'm going to try to update as regularly as I can from here on out. I welcome any suggestions, ideas, and/or comments! Reviews are love!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thanks to all my readers hanging in there with me through distractions and writer's block! It means a lot to me that people are still reading. Another big thanks to my beta, bigeasybreezy! I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p>The morning came quickly, too quickly in Kurt's opinion. The light was filtering through his living room curtains and was right in his eyes. His mind slowly processed the fact that he wasn't in his bedroom, and he remembered that he was there with Blaine, who was currently sleeping not two feet from him.<p>

He heard a quiet, contented sigh off to his right and snuggled back down into the mound of blankets and pillows he was sleeping on. His eyes fluttered shut again for a moment and he smiled to himself, soaking in the feeling. He'd missed mornings like this, knowing Blaine was close—not necessarily just because he had loved him, but because he loved their friendship—and this moment brought all of it back. He couldn't see Blaine, since the blankets were piled in the way, but he could hear him shifting a bit. "Blaine? You awake?" he whispered without really opening his eyes again.

"Mmmhhmmm," was the only reply he received. He felt the other man move in the blankets and burrowed a bit deeper than before. The tension seemed to have lifted from the room from the night before after Blaine asked him for help and they'd settled in for the night. Kurt had tried to stay awake for a while, attempting to contemplate where they were going to go from there and how exactly he was going to help Blaine. But his exhausted brain was thinking in circles in no time at all, realizing that he didn't really know what was going on with Blaine. And without that information, he really couldn't figure out what to do. His mind attempted to race through all the thoughts, but his exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep quite quickly, despite his efforts.

Once the annoying sun had awoken him, he popped one eye open and could tell from the sunlight that it was still quite early. He looked across the blankets at the spot where he knew Blaine was, even though he couldn't see him through the massive pile of softness they'd created together the night before.

He shifted up on one elbow and looked down at his seemingly sleeping friend. They had ended up both curled up near each other in the blankets, with just a bit of the pile between them, the bright white light painting them both paler and sharper. But still nothing could make Kurt more content in this moment than to see Blaine's mop of dark curls almost buried in the pillows. He knew that whatever he'd been worried about last night didn't really matter in this early morning pre-dawn light.

What mattered was waking up near Blaine, hearing him burrow down further in their blanket nest, knowing he was nearby and safe. Kurt smiled to himself and debated going back to sleep. The one thing he had decided on was that he needed outside help with Blaine. Whatever had happened to him or around him was serious. He didn't know where to start and contemplated calling his dad for some advice, but he thought it could wait. For now, he was warm and snuggled into a blanket fort with Blaine, and he didn't want to leave it. Calling Burt could be delayed. He didn't want to make Blaine wake up alone, not on this morning.

Kurt sighed happily, soaking in the moment; his head leaned back against the edge of the couch, still cuddled into the blankets. He rolled over onto his side so his body faced where Blaine was buried up to his curls. He loved the view of the room he'd taken forever decorating on a tight budget, every piece picked out specifically and caringly and seeing Blaine there, in one of his favorite refuges in the world warmed his heart even more.

Kurt pushed himself up gingerly, trying hard not to disturb the sleeping man next to him too much. The blankets had shifted slightly with his movement and had fallen off Blaine, pooling near his waist. He reached over to pull them up over Blaine's shoulders so he wouldn't get cold; pulling them up snuggly around his neck and briefly run his hand down Blaine's back soothingly, letting it rest a few seconds at the base of his back rubbing small circles tentatively there before pulling away. Kurt could feel the bumps of Blaine's spine through his shirt and it slightly alarmed him, but the sight of his long lost ex there, disturbingly thin or not, made him smile. Blaine hummed in his sleep in response to the hand on his back, and Kurt whispered to him in case he was more awake than he first appeared, "Hey, I'm going to freshen up. I'll be right back."

He resisted the sudden urge to lean down and kiss his exposed, slightly flushed cheek. The thought surprised him, and he filed it away in his mind to think about later. Kurt made a quick dash to the bathroom to brush his teeth and make sure he didn't smell like gross sweaty man before he settled back into the blankets. He grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to his dad, letting him know he'd be calling later, and then turned his phone on silent so they wouldn't be disturbed.

He must have fallen back asleep after he'd returned to their blanket fort, as the next thing he knew he opened his eyes to find Blaine rolled over and peeking at him with one eye visible above his pillow. "Hi," Blaine whispered, his voice raspy and sounding unused.

"Hey," Kurt smiled at him with his half smile, just showing the dimple on his right cheek. He stretched his arms above his head and sighed, enjoying the moment. "How did you sleep?" Kurt asked as he turned back toward the other man and curled into a pillow, pulling it to his chest. He ran an absent hand through his hair and decided it must look atrocious, but that he really didn't care all that much.

Blaine cleared his throat a bit. "Better than I have in a while, I suppose," Blaine looked down at his pillow for a few seconds, squishing his face into it before looking back at Kurt. "I didn't really want to wake up," he confessed conspiratorially to the other man with a small smile.

Kurt returned his smile, amused at Blaine's sleepy honesty. "Well, now I suppose that we're both awake, we should get some food or something. You have any plans later today?"

"Um," Blaine seemed to stall a moment and stare up at the ceiling, a hand running lightly through his hair. "Not really, I guess. What about you?"

"Nothing really; I'd like to hang out more and talk about some of the stuff you mentioned last night, if that's okay. But food, really, because I'm totally starving." Kurt sighed and leaned back dramatically, his hands clenching his stomach which elicited a small smile from Blaine. Kurt's hunger wasn't really on the forefront of his mind, but he knew that if he could convince Blaine he was hungry, it would be easier to get the other man to eat something as well.

"Yeah, that'd be alright, I guess." Blaine was picking at a seam in one of the blankets. "Whatever you feel like. You know what's close and good." He glanced up at Kurt and back down at the evidently very interested blanket.

"Hmmmm . . . there's an organic Chinese place close by," he said after checking his watch and discovering it was almost noon. "Or if you're thinking breakfast, I could run over to the café and pick up my bag while I'm at it. Either way. You choose."

"The café sounds good. I would like some coffee. Do you want me to come with or . . ." Blaine trailed off.

"Nope – I'll just get cleaned up fast and go grab some stuff for us. You can just hang out here if you'd like. Take a shower or watch some TV. There are extra towels in the bathroom and I'm sure I have stuff you can use. Remote's on the coffee table."

Kurt moved quickly out of the living room to go clean up, and with a wave to Blaine who was still unmoved from the pile of blankets that seemed to now be enveloping him, he headed out to pick up what he needed and try to be back as soon as possible.

* * *

><p>Blaine had stayed awake as long as he could the night before. He'd tried everything he could think of to stay awake. After Kurt's breathing evened out and deepened and long after the movie's credits had run, he tried to stay awake. He wasn't running from nightmares for once, but instead was trying to lengthen the night to stay in it as long as he could.<p>

He hadn't felt this cared for in a long time. Not since years ago during his relationship with Kurt. Even in the beginning with Alex, he'd never been taken care of like this. He hadn't felt this safe either, in such a long time. There was nothing going to get to him, not tonight. The man sharing the ridiculous pile of blankets with him like they were nine-year-olds cared about him. He'd hugged him. He hadn't commented on his thinness, or his inability to look him in the eye for very long; Kurt hadn't even mentioned how he'd screwed everything up so long ago. He'd just taken him in, the way he was and made him feel safe.

The blankets rose a bit with Kurt's deep breaths, and Blaine smiled a little to himself in the dark. Kurt was there; he wasn't alone. He could feel a slight heat radiating from his body, even through the blankets and it comforted him to know he was there, even if he couldn't see him in the darkness. In the early, early hours of the morning, he finally drifted off, listening to the light sound of Kurt next to him, knowing for once that the nightmares wouldn't come.

He woke early and panicked slightly, when Kurt got out of their nest, but he didn't move much, hoping that Kurt wouldn't leave and wouldn't regret letting him stay. But Kurt came back from his short departure and cuddled back into the make-shift bed near him and went back to sleep. Blaine let out the breath he was holding, waiting for Kurt's return and slowly drifted off with him.

Hours later, when Blaine's watch told him it was nearing noon, Kurt stirred again and Blaine peeked at him with the one eye that was high enough in the mound of blankets to see him. His heart soared when he realized that they weren't on the outs and that the ease of the night carried over into this morning. It was as if their friendship had never become rocky and they had a chance to be friends again.

Kurt left for a while to go get them breakfast, even though Blaine half convinced himself that he wasn't really hungry. He'd eaten so much more yesterday with Kurt that he couldn't believe that he'd want anything now, but surprisingly his stomach's growling contradicted him. Once Kurt departed, he took him up on the offer of a shower, thinking he may need to clear his head, and he did feel rather gross after yesterday. He found some fluffy towels in the bathroom linen closet and started the water as hot as he could stand it.

When he stripped, the steam hadn't quite clouded the bathroom mirror yet and he got a clear vision of himself naked. He hadn't really looked in months, not wanting to see the failure he was in the mirror reflected back at him, mocking him, reminding him of everything he wasn't. But this morning, in the bathroom that smelled faintly of Kurt, he couldn't take his eyes off himself in the mirror. He turned slightly from side to side, taking it all in. His collarbones stuck out almost obscenely. That was nothing compared to the hard jut of his ribs; even as he turned to look at his back, the bones protruded. His concave stomach no longer held the tone that it had when he'd been in high school, and even his arms seemed much thinner.

It was a shocking sight, even though he should have expected it; he'd worked so hard to hide it from everyone else that he seemed to have even hidden some of the effect from himself. He lowered his eyes and finally stepped into the hot shower, wanting to wash away the feelings of unworthiness that were already taking over his mind. All Blaine really wanted to think about was how much better being in this apartment with Kurt made him feel again, how it gave him some type of hope, and how he was desperately being drawn to the idea of letting Kurt into his life again.

The hot water hit him hard, and the hot pinpricks turned his skin quickly to a dark pink. He held his head under the spray, drinking in the feeling of warmth overwhelming his body. He lazily set out to clean himself, but mainly just enjoyed the heat and feeling of Kurt's amazing shower. After about fifteen minutes he figured he'd better get dried off so he'd be ready when Kurt got back from picking up food and his bag from yesterday.

Blaine turned off the water and wrapped himself in fluffy towel. He never really thought about enjoying things like showers anymore. So much of his life had become mechanical in nature; everything he did was for a purpose, something he had to do rather than something to be enjoyed. The simple pleasures it was obvious that Kurt allowed himself throughout the day like his ridiculously fluffy towels struck a chord with Blaine. He shouldn't allow himself these kinds of things. He didn't deserve them. He didn't deserve someone being so nice to him. He was fooling himself.

Red hot tears began to flow out of his eyes and streak his clean cheeks. They tumbled down to wet the towel around his shoulders. This was absurd. He should have taken Kurt's absence as a chance to leave, not to take a shower. Kurt couldn't really want him there. He was being an idiot. If anything Kurt just pitied him and took him in like a lost dog that'd been kicked one too many times. Blaine sat down hard beside the shower and pulled his knees up under the towel to his chest and allowed his thoughts to flow. If Kurt knew what he was really like, he wouldn't want him here.

"_Fucking a, Blaine, hurry your lazy ass up! I have to get ready for work and you're taking forever," Alex yelled at him through the door as he banged on it. Blaine checked his watch – he'd been in the bathroom exactly 4 minutes and had managed to get through an abbreviated shower in that time. They'd over slept a little since he'd forgotten to set the alarm before he settled on the floor for the night. _

"_Damn it," Blaine cursed himself and pulled a t-shirt over his head. Grabbing his shoes and socks, he hustled out of the bathroom, so it would be open for his boyfriend. "I'm sorry, hun. I know I took too long. What would you like for breakfast? I can make something you can take with you so you won't be hungry." Blaine tried to mend the problem he caused before Alex really got after him. He was worst when he was hungry; Blaine supposed that was understandable enough._

"_I don't fucking care, Blaine," Alex snarled at him, his head popped out of the bathroom door the only visible part of him. "But whatever you do, don't screw it up. I can't deal with your burnt, tasteless crap today. Can you even make toast? Try will you? And get a move on – I'm late you know and you know why too – you're so inconsiderate . . ." his voice trailed off as he shut the door behind him._

_Blaine stood in the hallway and just listened to his boyfriend, his head slightly lowered, hair dripping water down his neck and into his eyes. His hasty attempt at drying himself off hadn't been all that effective evidently. He padded out to the kitchen and grabbed two kinds of bread from the bread box, not knowing which Alex would like better, and stuck them in the toaster after he'd turned down the coil heat to prevent charring. Blaine sat down gingerly on a wooden kitchen chair. Yep, he was going to be sore today. It hadn't lasted long last night, but then it never really did. Somehow Alex had done a number on his ass in a short amount of time though. He carefully leaned over and slid on his socks and shoes before retrieving the bread to put Alex's favorite jelly on it. He put in another slice for himself and put Alex's on a plate for him. _

_Blaine began to clean up the kitchen, removing old cereal bowls that Alex or his roommate had left out since the last time Blaine had been over and washed dishes that were in the sink. He'd just started to wipe down the counters when Alex emerged from the bathroom dressed for work. He took one look at the toast Blaine had laid out for him and asked, "What the hell is this crap? Bread? Did you even try to toast it? And now it's all soggy cause you let it sit there while you dinked around in the kitchen doing god knows what. It's cold and soggy bread. GOD, Blaine, what the fuck don't you screw up?" Alex picked up his bag and headed to the door, toast in hand. He opened the door, turning back to look at Blaine, his hands sudsy from the dishwater, hip cocked and looking slightly defeated. _

"_I'm sorry, Alex, I really am. If you want mine . . ." _

"_No, Blaine, I don't. I just want you not to be such a mistake. I'm late already and now hungry and it's your fault!" With that Alex picked up the two pieces of toast one by one and dropped them face down on the floor, accentuating the words "you fucking disaster." The door banged behind him and Blaine moved to grab a rag and wipe up the mess Alex had left. _

A slight knock on the door made Blaine look up. He wasn't in Alex's apartment; he was in Kurt's – wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and still naked from his shower. "Blaine? I'm back. I was wondering, since, um, you don't have a change of clothes with you, would you like to borrow some of mine? I mean, uh well, they're clean and all that, and I grabbed some of my smaller stuff so it shouldn't be too big. And I have boxer briefs. They're new. I mean. Oh gosh, I'm just going to shut up now. If you want them, I put them outside the door. I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready to eat. Okay?"

Blaine cleared his throat and took a second to reply trying to make sure his voice wouldn't crack when he spoke, "Yeah, that's great Kurt, thanks. I'll be out soon." He heard the other man move away from the door and walk down the short hallway. He continued to zig when Blaine fully thought he would zag.

He opened the door when he could tell Kurt was banging cupboard doors in the kitchen and picked up the clothing that Kurt had left for him. He held the small pile of clothes up to his face and it all smelled so much like Kurt. He nuzzled into it for a moment, revealing in the smell and the softness of the fabrics that he'd always associated with his ex-boyfriend.

He let the towel drop and pulled on the clothes, all massively too big on him. He had to roll the jeans at the feet and attempted to hold them up at the waist by tucking in the t-shirt Kurt had left him as well as the undershirt. He pulled the sweater over top and smiled at the fact that Kurt had brought him multiple layers that were completely unnecessary. Once dressed, he attempted to pull a brush he found on the vanity through his unruly hair but couldn't find any gel to help control the curls, so he just shook them out and hoped for the best. After a last glance into the mirror, he made his way into the kitchen to Kurt.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I apologize for the length. The next chapter is about half way finished, so expect it next week. So sorry for the wait, but I ran into that dreaded nemesis writer's block and didn't want to write crap, so I waited. I also tried to get rid of a lot of the repetitiveness, but keep the style I had going before. Please let me know if you think it worked or not! I'm trying! I hope you all enjoyed this! On a side note, super excited – I found out that I passed my bar exam and got tickets (crystal skull tickets, no less!) for Apocalyptour on the same day! **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I hope you enjoy some fluffiness. **

* * *

><p>Kurt wanted to make his run to the café as quick as he could; he didn't want to leave Blaine alone in the apartment too long. He was afraid that if he did, the other man would be gone by the time he made it back. The ice and snow from the storm the night before made it difficult to walk, though, and lengthened the trip significantly. It was only a few blocks to the café, but it took nearly twenty minutes picking through the ice and snow scattered on the sidewalks. The cold air cleared his mind and he hurried on as much as he dared, wanting with every step to be closer to getting back to his apartment and more importantly, back to Blaine.<p>

Finally, he reached the café and pulled the door open. The waitress who had been working the day before when they'd been in was behind the counter. She recognized him immediately, greeting him with a smile. They exchanged pleasantries, and she handed over his satchel that they had graciously been holding for him behind the counter. He took a cursory glance at the menu and decided to just follow her recommendations and ordered way more than necessary, not knowing exactly what Blaine would like or want. He went with mini-quiches and croissant sandwiches with coffee due to the late hour and hoped the flavors would be something Blaine would like. While he waited for the sandwiches to be made up and everything wrapped, he pulled out his cell.

He'd missed a call from his dad already. The waitress told him it'd be a few more minutes after he inquired, and he decided to give him a call before the food was ready. Kurt had missed his father a lot since he moved to New York, and he usually called him every other day or so. He'd missed a few calls since Blaine had come back into his life, and his dad was rapidly picking up that there was something going on with his son.

He pressed his dad's picture on his contact list. It only took one ring before Burt picked up on the other end. "Hey kiddo!"

"Hey, Dad. How's it going?"

"Fine here. Nothing too much new. So what's going on, kid? I get a weird text this morning and then no answer. What's up?" Burt cut right to the point, never a man to tip-toe around issues.

"Well, um, I'm not quite sure what is going on, Dad. I, uh, ran into someone from Ohio a few weeks ago and I just didn't really know what to do, so I thought, well, I thought you might have some idea." Kurt forced himself through the first part of opening the topic up to his dad, hoping that it wouldn't be too much of a scene between the two of them. He nervously rubbed through the hair at the base of his neck with his hand not holding the phone

"You've gotta give me more than that, Kurt. Who is it? Wait . . ." The line went quiet for a few seconds before Burt returned and cleared his throat: "It's Blaine isn't it?"

Kurt's quiet voice came across the phone. "Yeah, Dad." He paused, wondering how much his dad had guessed and how much he should tell him. "How'd you know?"

"Never has anyone been able to get you so worked up as Blaine could in all of two seconds. So what's going on? I thought you two weren't talking or something. That was a long damn time ago, kid. So what's up with him? I'm assuming this is about him. He hasn't hurt you again, has he?"

Kurt sighed, not ready to fight the battle of whose fault their breakup was again. "Dad, Blaine never hurt me. I hurt myself and him. The whole breakup was my fault, remember? And yes it was 'a long damn time ago.' Eight years, Dad. It's been eight years. But that's not really why I called."

Burt harrumphed on the other end of the line. He'd never believed fully that his son could have caused harm or hurt to anyone, even his first boyfriend. He'd known how awful things had been for Kurt after he and Blaine had broken up and he'd never believed the half story he'd gotten from his son.

Kurt sighed to himself, choosing to ignore the disgruntled sounds coming from his father. He leaned back against the wall of the café trying to think of the best way to get the words out. "I called because, well, I ran into him a while back and something just wasn't quite right with him. We've met up a couple of times since then, and there's something really wrong, Dad."

The silence on the other end of the line forced him to continue even though he wasn't sure he was getting what he really wanted to tell his dad. "He's, um, he's really thin. Like thinner than anyone really should be. I don't know why; I think it's more because he forgets or something than he's got some eating disorder really. But that's, ah, not all of it. He's, well, he's really messed up in the head. He acts like a scared puppy that's been kicked a lot or something. He hasn't been sleeping and he jumps at every sound, every touch, and he looks just awful. I don't know what to do, Dad. He, well, he asked me for help last night. And I want to help him, but I don't know how."

Kurt could hear his dad on the other side of the line let out a breath. He could picture him in the kitchen at home, leaned against the counter watching Carole cooking a late breakfast, one hand rubbing his eyes while he thought about his answer.

A sigh came over the line before Burt started. "Since you and I don't know completely what's really wrong, that's a hard nut to crack, kiddo. Will he even talk to you about what's going on?"

Kurt thought about that for a second. "He seems to not really want to talk about whatever is wrong, but he will in bits and pieces."

"I hate to tell you this, Kurt, but sometimes we don't have all the answers. All I know is that back when you guys were together, you were so close. You knew Blaine better than anyone else in the world. He's still that guy underneath everything. Try to find him. Help him with whatever you can, as long as it's healthy for both of you. He may need professional help. He'll open up to you eventually, Kurt; he never could really say no to you. I'm, I'm sorry I can't do more for you or offer you more advice. Hang in there."

Kurt took a few moments to digest what his father had told him. It was true; they'd always been beyond close. He had been able to read Blaine with a glance before, and Blaine had always opened up to him in the end. He'd just have to keep trying. "Well, thanks, Dad, I'll try. I'll just have to keep trying until I figure out what's going on with him. I love you. Give a hug to Carole for me and tell her not to worry; I know she's listening." He ended the statement with a smile, picturing Carole now leaned up against the counter beside his father, her head on his shoulder as she was always doing.

"Love you too, kid. Hey, one more thing. Relationships, even just friendships take a lot of work. And more than that, they take a lot of trust. I don't know what happened then and I don't know what happened to Blaine since, but if anything you do is going to work, you've got to trust him and you have to earn his trust again. Call me soon and let me know how things are going."

Kurt heard a faint, "Bye, Kurt, love you!" from Carole in the background as he said his final goodbyes. He turned off his phone and leaned his head back against the wall of the café and sighed. Even his dad didn't know what to do. He'd just have to wing it and hope for the best.

He only had to wait a few more moments before his order was ready and Kurt headed back out the door of the café to carefully pick his way through the streets back to his apartment and Blaine. Knowing Blaine was there waiting for him warmed his heart and quickened his step despite the snow. Kurt may have been completely uncertain as to what to do to help Blaine, but he was absolutely sure that he couldn't wait to get back to him.

* * *

><p>As Blaine left the bathroom, he placed his folded clothes from the day before on the hamper, making a mental note to remember them when he left. Kurt's clothes were giant on him, but they'd have to do. Once Blaine was remotely satisfied with his appearance he went out to the kitchen to see if Kurt needed help with the breakfast.<p>

As he walked down the short hallway toward the sounds coming from Kurt's kitchen, it occurred to him that he probably should have spent some of the time that Kurt was off getting brunch cleaning up the mess they'd made last night and putting away the blankets and pillows that made up their blanket fort. He should have folded them up at least. How inconsiderate of him. He cursed himself for his stupidity and carelessness and hoped Kurt wasn't mad that his apartment was still a disaster.

He entered the kitchen slowly and with some trepidation, to find Kurt's back to him, faint humming coming from him as he unpacked the bags from the café. Blaine fidgeted where he was before clearing his throat. "Um, thanks for the clothes. Sorry I didn't get the living room cleaned up while you were gone. I meant to, but I forgot." His excuse even sounded lame to his ears, but instead of the sharp biting words he was expecting, Kurt just turned to him and smiled.

"Don't worry about it, Blaine. I'm sure we'll use them again before the day's over. Why don't you come here and pick what you want? I think I got enough to feed an army of us." Kurt let out a small chuckle and held out a plate to Blaine. He paused a moment, thrown off by Kurt's niceness about the mess. He shook his head to clear it of the shock he felt at not being reprimanded for his carelessness. He kept having to remind himself that Kurt wasn't Alex, and Kurt hadn't ever treated him the way that Alex always had. Kurt might not have liked some of what he had done or some of his habits, but he'd never been out and out mean to him about them. Kurt had always had a mild response to slight issues, Blaine remembered in the moment; he'd always told Blaine that if it wasn't important enough for them to jeopardize what they had, then it wasn't worth fighting over.

A slight smile crossed Blaine's face as the happy thought registered, and he took the plate from Kurt and surveyed everything he'd brought with him from the café. He was surprised at how good everything smelled and even more astounded when his stomach rumbled in response to the delicious smells. Kurt even giggled a little at the sound and Blaine's surprised expression that the noise had erupted out of his own stomach.

After they had both made their selections and grabbed steaming cups of coffee, Kurt led the way back into the living room. He set down his plate full of café goodness and moved the coffee table back towards their little area of pillows and blankets, while Blaine waited, effectively giving them a table for where they sat on the ground. Blaine followed suit, watching Kurt warily and just trying to figure out what was going to happen. Everything thus far this morning had thrown him and he was happy, but missing the comfortable feeling of knowing exactly what was going to happen with no surprises. With Kurt, there were always surprises now, and it made him somewhat uncomfortable.

Blaine soon got distracted by the deliciousness of the food and wolfed down most of what he had taken in mere minutes. The croissants were light and fluffy, and for the first time, he didn't feel like the food might make a reappearance soon. When there was only a sip or two of his coffee left, he was brought out of his stupor by Kurt giggling. He looked up to see what was so funny, noticing that Kurt had only had a few bites and was only starting on his coffee.

"Hungry, Blaine?" he asked with a laugh breaking through, and Blaine actually felt like smiling in return. So he did. A great big grin broke out across his face, and he reached across to Kurt's plate with a mischievous look in his eye and stole half Kurt's sandwich, shoving it quickly and most entirely in his mouth.

Blaine tried to chew a few times while Kurt fell over from his giggles, and he was finally able to get out around the wad of food, "mine now!" His mumbled comment did nothing but set off more peals of laughter from Kurt.

It seemed to Blaine that the tension between them had been broken. Some elements of their previous friendship were showing back up. All he had to do was admit to Kurt that he needed something, to let him in just a little bit and his world got a lot brighter. It was quite a bit for him to take in at once and he quieted down quickly, enjoying the last of their brunch and then looking around a bit uncomfortably.

"I, um, I should probably take off soon. I didn't get any work done this weekend and I need to get some stuff ready to file." He didn't really want to leave, but he had a lot to think about and wanted to have some time to himself to process everything before he had to go to work on Monday. Blaine started to push himself up off the pile of pillows they'd been lounging on.

He quickly felt strong arms around him pulling him down and onto the blankets. A surprised gasp escaped his lips as the two men toppling over each other. Blaine ended up landing partially on Kurt's arms, giggling again together with him. Blaine rolled away, but stayed close enough that their hands were still brushing, and he didn't feel the need to move away.

"Aw, not yet Blaine! Just one more movie or something, okay?" Kurt looked at him with his puppy dog eyes and stuck his plump lower lip out just a fraction; it was a look Blaine recognized from long ago. He knew Kurt was trying his best to convince him to stay.

He sighed, knowing he wanted to be there with Kurt, his heart pulling him to remain in the apartment, curled up with Kurt, but it was all too much way too soon. His eyes darted around the apartment, wondering if any decision he made now would be for the best, completely at a loss yet again as to what to do. "I guess, but just for a little while. I need to leave by three, alright?"

Kurt just grinned at him in response and quickly got up to take their dishes back to the kitchen. Three o'clock came and went, Blaine's deadline to leave long forgotten in his enjoyment of the afternoon. They just sat and talked – not about themselves, but about everything else. Movies they'd seen while they'd been apart, music that had come out, and books they'd both read. Blaine was grateful the conversation stayed safe, allowing him to not talk about himself or anything that made him uncomfortable, but at the same time allowing Kurt to be near him. To hear himself laugh again was truly surprising. To Blaine, the best part was just hearing the timbre of Kurt's voice falling over his ears, not really hearing what he was saying but just taking in the sound of his voice reassuring Blaine that he was there in that moment with him.

Before Blaine realized it, it had started to get dark outside and he knew he had to leave for real. As he made to go, Kurt pulled him into a hug and told him how much the afternoon had meant to him. That they should do it again, and soon. And he found himself agreeing wholeheartedly. As he left, and heard the door shut behind him, Blaine felt the most okay he had in a long time. He knew he'd be back and be seeing Kurt again, and he was alright with that. The thought didn't make him want to hide; he actually realized that he wanted to see Kurt again, and he hoped he'd found his friend once more.

* * *

><p>Kurt could hear him coming out of the bathroom and down the hall, but wanted to let Blaine take his own time coming to him. He was still thinking about what his dad had told him while he got their lunches ready. He knew what he had to do. He had to tell Blaine the truth about what had happened and soon and he needed to tell him soon. Kurt was sure getting the underlying questions answered was imperative to him to get Blaine to trust him again. Without Blaine knowing what had really happened, whatever friendship or relationship they built would be on extremely rocky ground. He wasn't sure Blaine would be able to trust him or even be around him not knowing – still having that unknown reason and destruction hanging over his head. So he made the decision that he would tell Blaine, and tell him soon. He would bare everything to him, in the hopes that by doing so, Blaine would let him into his world as well.<p>

Once decided, he focused on getting the food out of the bags and started humming absent mindedly to himself some tune or another that he had caught in his head. He knew Blaine had entered the kitchen behind him as the smell of his pomegranate shampoo wafted its way towards him. Just knowing the other man was there with him made him smile to himself, happier than he had been in a long time. Content with the world. He heard Blaine clear his throat and say something about being sorry the living room wasn't clean.

Kurt turned and took in the sight of Blaine before him. Blaine was swimming in his clothes, but he looked much happier than Kurt had seen him. The hot shower had brought some color into his cheeks, and his curls were already forming ringlets on his head. The sight of Blaine wearing his clothes did something to Kurt's heart too, causing it to twist and squirm in his chest, and his smile grew.

The mess in the living room was the least of his worries right now, and he wasn't concerned about it in the slightest. There was a bit of an ashamed tone in Blaine's voice, though, and he noticed the slight downward tilt of his head as he voiced his apology. Kurt reassured him quickly that he didn't give a crap about the state of his living room. He had bigger issues – like brunch – to think about.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll use them again before the day is over. Why don't you come here and pick what you want? I think I got enough to feed an army of us." He truly had, too. There were several of everything—mounds of food—so he grabbed a plate from his cupboard and thrust it towards Blaine so he could choose on his own. He tentatively took the plate from Kurt's hands and selected a few of the items he'd laid out while Kurt made his own choices, filling his plate as well and grabbing the two coffees in their carrier.

Kurt caught his eye again and tilted his head toward the living room, leading the way back to their nest of blankets. He set his plate down and adjusted the coffee table so they had a makeshift table to eat from and settled down onto part of the pile, resting his back on the couch. Blaine followed suit, and Kurt tried to watch him out of the corner of his eye as he started to eat. And eat. And eat. After several gulps, Kurt just outright stared at him, amazed at his sudden hunger and ability to put away food. Kurt was sure Blaine was going to make himself sick. It was as though he'd never tasted food before, and he couldn't help but start giggling as nearly all of Blaine's food was devoured within seconds.

He choked out a question around his giggles when Blaine had looked up at him questioningly: "Hungry, Blaine?" The laughter truly broke loose then, and he couldn't stop it. He was momentarily scared it would put Blaine off or make him think he was making fun of him , but that was quickly forgotten as Blaine smiled back at him tentatively at first. Blaine's grin grew until it was nearly as big as Kurt's. Kurt's heart beat faster in his chest at the sight, knowing that was the first time he'd seen Blaine truly smile in nearly a decade. His eyes still lit up, and the smile overtook his whole face, scrunching his eyes, and it was absolutely infectious.

Before Kurt could react or shake himself out of the memories Blaine's smile had recalled, Blaine had reached out for his plate and stolen the other half of his sandwich as well, quickly stuffing as much of it as he could in his mouth, giggling the whole time. The whole sight, the whole situation was so ridiculous that Kurt's laugh took over again, and he fell over from giggling so hard, leaning onto the couch and grabbing his sides as they began to cramp from all the laughing as Blaine managed to state around the sandwich in his mouth, "mine now!"

Kurt couldn't stop laughing at the sight of Blaine with half the sandwich hanging out of his mouth, the indignant sound of his voice claiming the stupid sandwich, which Kurt of course did not want back now, Blaine's curls loose and bouncing, and the two of them relating well together for the first time in years, without a hint of strain between them. He loved it, and his heart soared with the feeling, peals of laughter escaping once again. Kurt had always loved this part of their friendship – the ease they felt together, the way they were comfortable around each other and enjoyed each other's company. It felt like that was coming back to them, and it was the best feeling in the world.

After the laughter died down, Kurt was somewhat disheartened as Blaine attempted to find a reason to leave. Every excuse he came up with seemed lame, and his insecurities and discomfort started to show again. Kurt knew he still wanted to talk with Blaine about why he'd broken up with him, but it was apparent that now was not the right time to do so. Blaine needed to be a bit steadier in his moods and secure in himself and in Kurt before he dropped that bomb on him. And right now, Kurt didn't know how to make Blaine's mood swings stop, but he wanted what they'd just had a few minutes before back, so he did the only thing he could when Blaine started to make his way to the door – he pulled him back down on top of him and tried to stop him.

Blaine toppled on top of one of Kurt's arms, and he enjoyed the closeness momentarily. Blaine quickly rolled back off, but stayed close enough that Kurt could feel their hands touching, and he smiled again, giggles erupting from him once more at the absurdity of the whole afternoon and the fact that Blaine was HERE. He was back and nothing, NOTHING Kurt could think of made him happier.

"Aw, not yet Blaine! Just one more movie or something, okay?" Kurt pouted his best pout in an effort to make Blaine stay, hoping to spend just a few more minutes with his best friend from bygone days and to hang on to the moment just a little longer. He broke out the puppy dog eyes he knew nearly always worked on Blaine in the past and slightly pouted out his lower lip. It worked just as he had hoped it would. They spent the rest of the afternoon close to each other, just enjoying their shared space and talking about everything and nothing.

He knew they weren't out of the woods yet, and that Blaine desperately needed outside help and assistance. And he needed to have a conversation with him coming clean about everything that had happened eight years ago. But so far he'd accomplished what he had wanted – they were bonding again and Blaine was starting to let him in. He had begun to open up to Blaine and Blaine in turn was allowing him in and maybe just maybe was starting to trust him a little as well.

Blaine finally had to leave, and as Kurt shut the door behind him and turned the lock, he realized he already missed him and couldn't wait to hang out with him again. Blaine was already back in his life full-force and nothing could feel more right to Kurt. He went into his living room to begin picking up their blankets and pillows, but couldn't put them all away before grabbing the one that Blaine had rested his head on that afternoon while he was explaining all the best parts of the superhero movies that Kurt had missed in the last few years. He put it up to his face and breathed in Blaine. How he had missed that smell. He smiled into the pillow and made the snap decision to bring it into his room that night and curl around it as he fell off to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading! Chapters should be coming more quickly now. Reviews are love**


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you all for being so patient. I've had two family members in the hospital in pretty serious condition. I also had a week of no internet and have been absolutely swamped at work. The good news is here is chapter 14! The other good news is that chapter 15 is written, being edited and I absolutely promise it will be up by next Wednesday (I swear on Blaine's good eye!). So with that, and a HUGE thank you to my beta, bigeasybreezy, I give you chapter 14!

* * *

><p>Through the next week, a tentative friendship started to grow between Kurt and Blaine. Blaine was less startled now when his phone would vibrate in his pocket. It was a feeling that he wasn't used to – actually having someone to reach out to him and want to contact him. He was just starting to feel comfortable now taking Kurt's calls when they came in and he no longer tried to outright avoid him. In fact, he was actually starting to look forward to hearing from Kurt, even if it was just a text asking "How is your day going?" He still didn't want to pick up the phone and make a call himself; it still seemed too much, too soon, and he didn't know what he'd do if he called and Kurt didn't answer or couldn't take his call. So he didn't call himself, but he had started to look forward to hearing from Kurt every time.<p>

Blaine was even able to stop himself from hyperventilating when the thought of getting together with Kurt popped into his head again. They had started texting each other that night after Blaine had left. Sunday night Blaine had been extremely surprised when he'd arrived home and his phone had alerted him to a text. He never got texts. Never. There was no one who would send them. He wasn't even sure what his phone plan was regarding texts. His hands shook a bit as he unlocked his phone to find out who it was. Of course, it was from Kurt, hoping that he'd gotten home okay and wishing him a good night. Blaine couldn't help but smile. It was little and just to himself, but it was a smile. And the texts just continued from there.

Blaine started back to work on Monday initially regretting the weekend. It was stupid, he knew, to let himself miss Kurt after just spending the weekend with him. It shouldn't have mattered that much to him, he thought. It should be a one-time thing. He couldn't let Kurt in that easily and he needed to put his guard back up. But Blaine simply couldn't get his defenses as high as they had been before. A smile crept in here and there, and he even looked up near peoples' eyes on purpose. Surprising himself the most, he even talked once or twice to others on Monday when he got coffee from the break room. After a few days of him not being abrupt and ignoring everyone all the time, it seemed that people at work were starting to notice the slight changes in him. He was finally being seen, and surprisingly enough, he was okay with it. Usually his surly demeanor kept people from talking with him – that and his months' long silence and unapproachable attitude.

The one thing he continued to hate was going home at night to his dingy, rundown, slightly scary apartment. It alone was depressing enough to throw him back into his old mindset. Everywhere he looked there, the evidence of the hatred he held for himself was present, and it was hard to hide or get rid of. It was a barren place, no pictures or personalized decoration to speak of, and it was very dark due to the heavy curtains he'd never bothered to change. They helped to block out the sun when he was hung over, which he was often, so he'd never really seen them as a problem. The apartment was always stuffy, which he hadn't minded before either, but now he wanted to be able to open the window and feel a breeze, even a cold one. The windows had been painted shut years ago, and the only ventilation he really had was a window air conditioner and it wasn't the same. And besides, the apartment was frigid enough without running the air – his heater barely worked and hardly managed to keep his toes from freezing off.

But now, coming home after a relatively pleasant day where he'd actually smiled and said "hello" and "goodbye" and "coffee's ready" to three whole people, it was just wretched. The dark, depressing apartment sucked him back into the place where he'd been, and he hated it. He hated it all – the look, the empty fridge, the reminders of how lacking he really was in so many areas of his life. At work, he could pretend he was competent, even good at something, and now he could even start to feel a little happy. When he saw Kurt and was at Kurt's apartment he'd started to think that maybe he wasn't right about himself, that he was worthy and worth caring about. Being in his apartment for any length of time took that straight away from him. The best parts of his nights when he was forced to go home to the apartment, were the texts he'd started to receive from Kurt. "Good night, talk soon :-)" made it a whole lot easier to sleep without drinking down the majority of a twelve pack first.

By the end of the week, the few smiles and hellos by the coffee pot seemed to have intrigued people. Blaine was sort of amazed that now his co-workers, on Friday, would even say good morning to him when they walked by his desk. He was so surprised that people he worked with actually knew that he was there and who he was. Some even knew him by name, which he had never expected. He'd always assumed that those he worked with just thought of him as a space in another cubicle or as the "curly headed quiet attorney in the corner on 5." His co-workers who had cubicles near his actually started to say hello to him in the morning and goodbye at the end of the night. He wasn't quite ready to look them in the eyes, but he would get up the courage to turn around and say the same to whoever had addressed him first. Before, he'd always just ignored anyone he didn't have to specifically talk to.

That afternoon, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and smiled, knowing full well that it had to be Kurt. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it, more curious than ever to see what Kurt wanted. He hadn't heard from him all day thus far.

To Blaine: (2:34 pm)

Are you busy for lunch tomorrow? :)

Blaine smiled back at the emoticon, happy that Kurt didn't feel "above" using them since he really did like them himself. He liked to think he used them to show Blaine he was actually smiling, not just as an off-handed thing. Blaine replied before really even thinking about it this time. His confidence built up from a work week of texts and several phone calls, none of which indicated that Kurt really hated him underneath it all or wanted rid of him. It seemed that any time a bit of doubt would creep in, a text or call from Kurt would come across his phone and distract him from the thought.

To Kurt: (2:36 pm)

Not really, I guess. Why?

To Blaine: (2:39 pm)

Would you like to meet up? I missed seeing you this week! :-) Please?

To Kurt: (2:42 pm)

Um. Sure. Where were you thinking?

Blaine didn't mean to be so short with Kurt or too stand-offish in his reply. He really wanted to see Kurt – he really did – but even though they'd had a great time the weekend before, especially on Sunday, he still had lingering reservations about Kurt. Blaine didn't want to be caught up assuming things, reading into things that weren't really there. He'd done that before, evidently, and he knew exactly where it had gotten him.

No matter what was building between them now, he still didn't know what had happened years ago that had ruined what they'd had. He still had lingering doubts that wouldn't let go of his brain and kept nagging him when he was trying to sleep or ignore his depressing apartment. His insecurities nagged at him, and Alex's voice took over his head still, convincing him at times that Kurt had to be messing with him. His want for Kurt to care about him, for anyone to care about him, wrestled in his mind with the part of him that _knew_ he wasn't worth anyone's love or caring. He went back and forth, trying to reach a place he could deal with. And Blaine couldn't help but worry about what it was that had caused the whole of his life to come tumbling down.

Whatever Blaine had done or said, or whoever had come into Kurt's life to cause him to hate Blaine so much – that had ruined this exact type of thing they had going now. He couldn't let Kurt drag him too far into this friendship or whatever it was without knowing what had happened. He was terrified that if he didn't know what he'd done, he'd do it again. And when he did, he'd lose Kurt for good, or at least for a second time. He couldn't risk it, and he also knew that if what Kurt had been saying was true, that it wasn't his fault, then he couldn't let him off the hook. Blaine knew he'd never be able to fully trust Kurt without the knowledge of what had really driven them apart. He was reluctant to let it get much further before Kurt filled him in some. He'd said that he wanted to, but now it seemed it was going to be up to Blaine to force it out of him.

Blaine regretted the message as soon as he had sent it. It was too reserved, too pulled back from his messages the rest of the week. When Kurt didn't text back right away, he started to worry. It was too little, he'd scared him off. Or Kurt really didn't care; he was just being nice, saying he wanted to see him this weekend. _Oh god, did he screw up again?_ Blaine was just starting to text him again to apologize and tell him he'd love to meet up when his phone buzzed in his hand.

To Blaine (2:50pm)

Well, lunch, a walk in the park, or dinner, or hang out. Whatever you're up for, I'm game. What are you comfortable with?

_Comfortable with_ . . . the words echoed in his mind and brought back a dimly lit teenage bedroom _"I want you to be comfortable so I can be comfortable . . ." _Kurt in that ridiculous sweater and Blaine dancing around being goofy, trying to get Kurt to laugh, when Kurt was just worried about Blaine and them and their _being_ together. After that conversation, Blaine had been so worried, not wanting to push Kurt into anything he didn't want between them, but still trying to make sure that Kurt knew Blaine wanted everything with him. Terrified he'd screw up, but at the same time knowing everything was perfect between them and wanting it to continue. He'd walked on eggshells for Kurt, making sure every little baby step forward they took together was in their own time, in their own way. He'd made sure they were comfortable together so that nothing could break between them. Blaine took solace in that, knowing that his comfort level for once might mean something to someone else; more specifically it might mean something to Kurt.

Blaine sighed, dragging his hand across his face, and attempted to pull himself back together a bit. He couldn't let himself get too far ahead of where they were. Because, really, they were just friends, and why the hell now and . . . He finally replied, just to shut up his brain.

To Kurt (2:53pm)

Lunch and then hanging out? Fine with whatever or where ever

To Blaine (2:55pm)

Sounds good! Want to meet up at my place? I have a new recipe I've been dying to try – I'd love your opinion! :)

To Blaine (2:56pm)

Of course if you're not comfortable hanging out there or trying my recipes that may possibly be terrible, I completely understand and in that case, just make a suggestion! Oh God, rambling . . .

Blaine had to smile at Kurt's quick response to him. He decided to quit second guessing everything and just let them meet up again. Because, honestly, he wanted to, and it wasn't like he had anything better to do. And it was a vast improvement over sitting alone in his apartment listening to his heater attempt to run and staring at the wall while freezing to death all day.

To Kurt (3:03pm)

Sounds great. Don't worry. See you when?

To Blaine (3:56pm)

Sorry work beckoned. Noonish? Just buzz the door and I'll let you up. You remember how to get there?

To Kurt (4:04pm)

I figured. Yes. Can't wait! See you then!

Blaine went back to finishing the last motions he had to write before the end of the day and sent them off to the respective partners who'd requested them, knowing that he'd usually just push them off, but wanting to keep busy and stay at work longer, because he dreaded going to his apartment. They wouldn't be filed until Monday anyway, but still the bright lights and warmth of the office were comforting. Several of his co-workers, first those who lived outside of the city and then those who lived closer in, began to leave. More than he expected interrupted his drafting to say goodbye and wish him a pleasant weekend. For the first time, he replied and could actually tell them "Thanks, I plan on it." Because for once he did.

* * *

><p>Kurt grinned at the closed door of his apartment an embarrassingly long time after Blaine left. Blaine had been there, had opened himself up a little to Kurt. He'd seen that grin of his, the one that overtook his whole face and turned his sparkling eyes into little shiny crescents. He reveled for a while in the echo of Blaine's laugh, which he could still hear in his apartment and ringing in his ears. He'd hoped, but never really thought he'd be privileged enough to hear that again. A beep on his phone diverted his attention and drew him out of his stupor.<p>

The message alert was for a text from Finn wondering if he was busy or could talk. He texted back that he was busy but he'd try to call tomorrow night. And he was; he had to compose the perfect text to Blaine before he got home and hopefully text him a few more times before the night was out. His brother could wait a bit, if it meant more time spent on Blaine. And he loved the fact that he _could_ text Blaine now. He was a little nervous sending the first one – making sure he'd gotten back home through the snow without a problem. But a few minutes after he figured Blaine should be getting home, he got a text in reply, letting him know Blaine was fine and made it through the snowy streets without too much issue. The simple words were wonderful.

On Monday morning he had to stop himself from wanting to text Blaine a "good morning, I hope you have a good day." It was almost the opposite of what he expected – with Blaine back in his life, he couldn't help but want to reach out and be in nearly constant contact with him already. He'd already felt this heady connection that they'd had instantly when they'd met in high school. He had to admit that this immediate attraction and need he felt for Blaine was scary. It was all so sudden. He knew nothing about Blaine now. But he knew that his constant texting and calling might scare him off, so he refrained as much as he could.

When he got up Monday morning he saw that Blaine had replied to his text, and they just continued from there. He tried to wait for Blaine to text him first, but he didn't want him to think that he was avoiding him, so he initiated most of the conversations. And called. He was always anxiously awaiting the time when it would be appropriate to call more often. To hear Blaine's voice in his ear was still amazing, even though it seemed a little farther off now, a bit quieter. Kurt came to the realization that he was savoring each and every message and word exchanged, valuing them all the more because mere weeks ago he wasn't sure he'd ever get another chance with Blaine.

Tuesday night, he'd gotten a phone call that he had been hoping was from Blaine. He was walking home from his office in the chilly air when he felt his phone vibrate in the front pocket of his heavily lined, but still stylish peacoat. He dug for it, adjusting his satchel on his arm when it threatened to fall off his shoulder as he tried to locate his phone. Luckily he'd invested in some of those gloves that had the "touch pads" built into the fingers so he was able to answer his phone without taking them off. He fumbled with the phone, sliding it open and sighing when he realized it wasn't Blaine as he had hoped, but rather his brother. "Hey, Finn." He hoped his voice didn't give away his disappointment.

"Hey, little bro! Just wanted to check in with you to see how things were going 'cause I didn't hear from you on Monday." Finn's voice came through the phone loud and clear and jarred Kurt. He'd been so hoping it was Blaine.

He sighed just a little into his phone. "Sorry, Finn."

"Don't be so excited to hear from me, little bro! Jeez!"

"Sorry, I was just expecting a different call is all. What's going on?" Kurt's head shook back and forth a bit, clearing away the conversation he had hoped to be having with Blaine, and he tried to concentrate on his brother.

"Nothing much really. Working, dealing with the wife and kids. You know, that stuff."

Kurt was always a bit taken aback when he remembered that his brother was not only married, but also had kids. Kristin was wonderful – beautiful and funny and hopelessly in love with Finn. Kurt had been so happy when Finn had called from his duty station after Basic and had told him about her. They were good together. And Kurt loved her – she was great with Finn and their two kids, who had, thankfully, inherited their smarts from their mother (but had both of their parents' kind hearts). He couldn't hear the kids in the background, which was unusual since Violet was only four and loved bossing her little brother Sammy around. Loudly. And typically during their conversations, Finn ended up refereeing between the two and the conversation got derailed.

"Where are the kids? I'm used to hearing my gorgeous but raucous niece and nephew in the background," Kurt mused.

"They're off with Kristin for the afternoon; she decided to be ambitious and attempt the children's museum. Which is nice because it gives us a chance to talk without constant interruptions," Finn replied.

Their conversation was easy and covered much of everything in each other's lives as Kurt walked back home. By the time he'd let himself into his apartment, topic choices were running low. "Well, I should go, Finn. Dinner and all," Kurt said, realizing as he looked around, that he still had to clean up after the weekend and make something to eat.

"Only one more thing. Whatever happened with you running into Blaine? I mean, I know you got ahold of him, but what happened after?"

Kurt had to take a minute. He'd hoped that Finn had forgotten about that little conversation. His pause did not go unnoticed by Finn.

"Dude, it didn't go badly did it? Sorry if it's a sore subject," Finn trailed off, giving Kurt an out. But he knew that if this was going to go anywhere, even just to a good solid friendship, he'd have to keep Finn and his family in the loop. He didn't want them thinking he was hiding anything either.

"It, um, it went fine. We're talking again. Hanging out, I guess. He's pretty screwed up. I told Dad that. We're texting and stuff now. Actually, I was thinking it was him that called when you did. I haven't talked to him today."

"Today, dude? Sounds like you talk to him a lot. That's great, Kurt. I think he needs it. He's doing okay then? You seemed pretty worried about him before."

"He seems a little better, but there's still something really wrong. And, yes, today – we talk or text or something pretty much every day now, I guess. It's, well, it's really good to have him back in my life. I missed him." Kurt left it simple, not ready to sort through everything on his own yet.

"I know you did, bro. And I'm happy for you. Keep me posted. Oh crap, Kristin's home. I'd better go help her with the kiddos. Talk soon?"

Kurt could hear high-pitched screams of "Daddy, lookit! Lookit what we did!" and "There were dinosaurs, Daddy! Dinos!" through the phone and knew Finn didn't have much time before he was overwhelmed by his rambunctious kids.

"Sure. Give the kids and Kristin a hug for me! Love to you all." They quickly exchanged goodbyes as Kurt could hear the kids clambering for their father's attention. He smiled down at his phone, absolutely loving how his brother was doing. Making the decision to go into the army seemed insane at the time, but in the end it had turned out to be the best decision for him. Amazing how Finn had known that when no one else had, Kurt thought. Then he set about making up some dinner, wondering whether it was time to call Blaine.

Wednesday and Thursday came and went. His work days seemed to go so much better and faster now that he knew he could hear from Blaine, check in on him to make sure that he was at least doing alright through the week. He felt his heart flutter a bit at each bit of contact – each "good morning" and each "How's your day going?" Before Kurt knew it, the work week had flown by. He'd gotten the opportunity to talk with Blaine, even, a few times and just hearing his voice on the other end of line made it hard to stop smiling for the rest of the day.

Friday morning dawned bright and promising to be sunny. On his way to work while he watched the sun come up slowly over the tall buildings, Kurt couldn't help but want to be sharing the chilly, but still beautiful morning with Blaine. He stopped at the café to pick up some coffee to go. Walking these streets, the same he'd been on with Blaine, reminded Kurt so much of him. The smell of coffee in the early morning, hanging heavy on the chill air brought back so many memories of them going to class together back in high school.

Once at work, he became distracted. It seemed that all his co-workers' problems needed to be fixed by him, right now, before the work week was over. He didn't get a break until almost 3 o'clock, when he finally checked his phone. Blaine hadn't texted him yet, but he figured it was okay to check in with him, and he wanted to see if Blaine was busy tomorrow. Kurt had made sure that he had the whole weekend free, just so he'd know for sure that he'd be able to accommodate Blaine's schedule.

By the end of the day they'd been able to make plans for Blaine to come over the next day for lunch and to hang out. It was exactly what Kurt had wanted, a casual atmosphere where he hoped Blaine would feel at least sort of comfortable. He went home a little early, figuring that fixing everyone else's problems earlier in the day made up for it. Kurt wanted to make sure that everything was clean in his apartment and that he had all the necessary ingredients for the recipe he was going to make the next day.

Kurt had always been a neat freak, totally grossed out in high school by Finn's messiness and his penchant for leaving his dirty clothes all over the place. Since he'd finally been able to have his own apartment the last few years, he'd made a point to never let it get even remotely messy, not even resembling Finn's place in college. So he didn't have much to clean but still made sure everything was neat and orderly. After a while of cleaning stuff that didn't really need to be cleaned, he got distracted by his photo albums and spent the rest of the evening engrossed in the pages, reliving his high school days and his relationship with Blaine. About 11 when he finally came out of his fascination with the old pictures of their faces smiling back at him, he had made a resolution to himself that Blaine would be told what had happened so he could decide if he even wanted to be around Kurt after what he had done. It was only fair to give him the choice. He owed it to the curly headed boy of his past, the one who had won his whole heart, and given him his, only to have Kurt stomp all over it. He owed him.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading and so sorry for not giving you what you wanted. What you've been waiting for is coming and soon, I promise, like Wednesday! Show me some love, if you like!<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you so much for reading. I know this is a little later than I promised, but I got it to my beta late and she worked so hard to get it back to me. I didn't want to post it without her input, since she's so good at what she does and everyone hates grammatical errors! So thanks for reading, and please don't kill me at the end…

* * *

><p>Just after noon on Saturday, Kurt heard a light knock on his door. He nearly jumped out of his skin. His building required a "buzz-up" to get in, and so he figured, exasperatedly, that it had to be a neighbor needing something. He'd been pacing between the living room and the buzzer near the door for almost an hour.<p>

He would have sworn up and down to anyone that might've asked that he wasn't waiting anxiously for Blaine, but in reality he'd been using every excuse he could think of for the last hour to be closer to the front door of his apartment. He actually had to stop himself from checking to see if his buzzer worked, because it would have been rather creepy, he thought, to be saying "check" into the voice part of the buzzer exactly as Blaine walked up to use it.

So he waited, and when the knocking came, he didn't even bother to check through the peephole, and just swung the door open, hoping he could get rid of whoever it was quickly. His jaw must have dropped a bit when he did look up, surprised to actually find Blaine standing there, nervously wringing his hands on his doorstep. By his quick look, it appeared that Blaine was as nervous and/or excited as he was for their _day_ together. He wanted to call it a date, but knowing what he was going to try to tell Blaine today, he wasn't even sure he would stick around much longer. Without knowing that, he didn't want to get his own hopes up too high as to where their friendship was going.

He quickly invited Blaine in, taking in his outfit, noticing that even though he was still dressed in clothing entirely too large for him and in the most drab of colors, he looked good. Better than he had anyway. His face had more color to it, and although Kurt may have been imagining it, the dark circles under Blaine's eyes, though still present, seemed to be a bit lighter as well. Kurt had a sudden impulse to reach out to him, to touch him, to make sure he was really there and to try to make him more comfortable. But as Kurt reached out his hand, just wanting to shake Blaine's or just to touch him, Blaine flinched away so he was just out of Kurt's reach. Blaine's eyes widened at his own surprise to his automatic reaction and he looked at the floor. Kurt had to shake it off and push through this or things would not only be off to a poor start, but would probably go down from there.

Kurt smiled at Blaine, hoping to ease the little bit of tension that had entered the room, and ran the hand he'd reached out to Blaine through his own hair, ruffling it a bit. "Well, I'm just starting to make up lunch. Once it's ready, it'll need to cook for about 45 minutes. I thought I remembered that you liked eggplant and I just found this recipe for eggplant lasagna that sounded great for a cold Saturday. Do you want some coffee or anything?"

Blaine stood awkwardly in his kitchen not seeming to really know where to go, so Kurt gestured toward the kitchen table and chairs while he spoke. Blaine gingerly sat himself down at the table, watching Kurt as he moved in a practiced motion around the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the dish before it went in the oven.

"Coffee'd be good, I suppose," Blaine answered. A touch of a smile graced his lips, though his eyes were still downcast slightly when Kurt looked at him directly. It was still a drastic improvement from the man Kurt had seen mere weeks ago. This new ease between the two of them that had developed over the week was disarming to Kurt. He thought about it as he got a coffee cup for Blaine and poured the fresh coffee he had just made for him.

Kurt put the final layers of the lasagna together and mulled over the conversation he wanted to have with Blaine. He didn't know which way to go to get to what he needed to do. He was hoping that what he had to tell Blaine wouldn't be that big of a deal, because in reality what had seemed like a huge issue at the time could have been handled way better.

But he'd ended everything over it, and that had turned it into a big deal – the biggest deal. And now he was terrified of what Blaine's response would be – whether it would be anger over what he had actually done or anger at how he'd handled the situation or disappointment or any other of a number of reactions Blaine could have. And Kurt realized that he had every right to feel whatever it was that he was going to feel and act on it. He'd had years to come to terms with his fault and failure. Blaine hadn't. He'd obviously been wondering about it for years. And it truly wasn't fair.

Kurt put the finishing touches on the lasagna and placed it in the oven, setting a timer before he turned back to Blaine, who was watching with soft eyes and sipping his coffee. He seemed to have calmed down some since Kurt had started working on their dinner. "Shall we go to the living room while we wait? The couch and stuff are probably much more comfortable than the kitchen chairs and, well, there's something I need" he paused, breath and words catching in his throat, "no _want_ to talk to you about, Blaine."

At the last statement, Blaine's head swiveled quickly around. He looked in Kurt's eyes hard for a good second before he cast his own eyes down. His answer came out low and quieter, his mood obviously sinking with Kurt's words, "Sure, um, I guess that'd be okay."

Kurt didn't want Blaine to think he was having this conversation here and now to be on his turf so to say. He was doing it this way so it would be quiet and no one would overhear them. He didn't want to embarrass Blaine or make him more anxious. It also put Kurt more at ease, knowing there wouldn't be any interruptions. This was going to be hard enough to get out as it was, without anything else interfering. He set the timer for just under an hour and followed Blaine into the living room.

* * *

><p>Blaine had nearly turned back several times by the time he convinced himself to go. It was easier today than it had been the weekend before. He managed to get out of his still dreary apartment, out onto the street and head towards Kurt's before losing his resolve. Blaine had pulled out his phone several times on the way there to go over his texts from the day before, just to make sure he hadn't misinterpreted anything from Kurt. He was so terrified down to his gut that he was going to screw this up or that something was going to go wrong today.<p>

His mind was screaming at him that this was all too good to be true. Kurt couldn't possibly want to even be friends with him. He went over in his head their breakup weekend, once again trying to find what had caused Kurt to leave him and their life. But, like all the times before, he came up empty. And now Kurt was back and being nice and Blaine didn't know what to think. The other shoe was soon to drop, and he couldn't shake the nervousness.

All too soon, he found himself face to face with Kurt's building. He started to worry his bottom lip between his teeth and nearly turned back again, intent on leaving and never coming back, when a young woman opened the door and held it for him, asking, "Are you coming in? Then you don't have to buzz." And his decision was made for him. Ever the gentleman, he held the door so she could come out easier and then entered himself. He hadn't meant to, but he was already inside. Shit. Should he go and knock? Or would Kurt think it was weird that he'd gotten in without being buzzed in? Was that creepy? Stalkerish? Or did it happen all the time? He'd nearly beaten himself to a pulp over it before he sighed and resigned himself to his fate. He'd look even dumber if someone saw him leave and then try to get buzzed in again, so he turned and got on the elevator to the fourth floor.

He leaned against the cool metal paneling inside the elevator, feeling its chill even through his light coat. He had been freezing the whole way over. He hated shopping due to the bright lights and the crowds, so he hadn't bothered to look for a decent winter coat after his last one wore out. His pea coat was wearing thin, but it would have to do for a while yet as he still hated shopping. When he wore it over his work clothes it wasn't really that bad, and he only had to be outside during his commute, he had tried to convince himself.

Once he reached the fourth floor, he turned and walked toward Kurt's door, gearing himself up for their date. _It's not a date. It's not a date. Kurt never said it was a date._ He knew he couldn't do that to himself, but his brain wouldn't stop calling it a date. He knew he wanted it to be, but that was just wishful thinking. Kurt was just being nice and friendly, and he hadn't given him any indication he wanted anything more, and _Oh god_, how long had he been standing outside Kurt's door. What if he was looking out through the peephole or had heard him walk up and knew he was standing out there doing nothing? Before he could panic, Blaine forced air into his lungs and knocked.

The small talk wasn't really so bad when he got inside. Kurt's business in the kitchen was always something Blaine had loved to watch, and it was great to see him at it again. Kurt never seemed to be at a loss in the kitchen. It was a trait that Blaine had always envied in him. When dinner was finally in the oven, Kurt told him he wanted to talk to him about something. Blaine couldn't help but hope and dread that he'd finally find out what happened eight years ago. He followed Kurt into the living room, hoping the bad scenarios he'd come up with in his mind for years weren't going to play out as true. As much as he wanted to know what he'd done or what had caused this whole mess, he was terrified at the truth. Maybe there was a good reason Kurt had left and maybe it really was just him and the thought that he might find out once and for all petrified him.

* * *

><p>They sat down on opposite ends of Kurt's couch. Kurt looked around before sitting down, hoping to figure out the best possible place to seem sincere and get his point across. He settled for near, but not overly so, with Blaine also on the couch with him.<p>

Kurt finally shifted over to look at Blaine, his fine features outlined in faint shadows. Kurt's movement attracted Blaine's attention, and he turned his head to face him. Kurt smiled softly and tentatively at him. He was terrified of the conversation he was about to launch into, terrified of the consequences and hoping that Blaine could forgive him, that opening this door would bring them closer and not force them farther apart.

"We've got a little under an hour before the lasagna's done, Blaine, and um . . ." He paused, not knowing at all how to start this conversation. If Blaine would stop looking so forlorn and desperate, like a trapped animal, this would all be so much easier. Kurt took a shuddering breath to steady himself and pressed on. "Like I said, I need and want to talk to you about something. I, I want us to be in each other's lives. I want to call you and hear from you and hang out. But I can't start this friendship without both of us knowing what happened. I need to get this out, Blaine. I really do. I owe it to you. I owe you so much because of what happened and I just want to start by saying I'm sorry. I know it's not enough. Or maybe it is – I don't know, really – but it's the way I feel. I'm so sorry. I handled everything between us so poorly and I want to have this conversation right.

"I just want to talk about what happened, Blaine. I want to be able to get the story out, all of it, before we really talk about it. Can you just let me, and listen . . . please? It's going to be hard to hear, but I need to tell you and I think you want to know. Yes?"

He paused, looking for confirmation from Blaine to continue, to let him get it out. He studied Blaine's face, taking in the slightly worn features, gaunt and starkly contrasted against the pictures he'd been studying just the night before. Blaine's honey eyes were already shining with tears. This startled Kurt in the worst way. The words that were on his tongue got caught in his throat, and he just stared at Blaine's downturned face.

_He must know where this is going, _was all Kurt could think. He felt so ashamed; his heart panged with it. The embarrassment started up then, as Blaine glanced up and met Kurt's eyes, momentarily holding them and nodding a minuscule amount, enough so Kurt would know to continue and that he wouldn't stop him. Blaine looked as though he'd resigned himself for a brutal beating; it was awful. Kurt was so embarrassed because of what he had done. His past, years of bad decisions, had put him here, and now Blaine, faultless in this, beautiful Blaine was hurting yet again because of him. It was terrifyingly horrible.

"Blaine, I need to talk with you about this. I want you to trust me again, and I think the only real way we can move past everything that has gone on between us and stand on solid ground is for me to tell you this. I never wanted to – I never wanted to hurt you, and I hope you can come to understand that. I tortured you for no reason really, but while it was going on, when I cut you out of my life, I truly thought I was protecting you and doing what was best for both of us. And I'm sorry. You must know how sorry I am and how much I've regretted not only doing what I did, but also cutting you out." Kurt's breath shuddered out of him. He paused and tried to steel himself for the coming conversation. Tears were already pricking behind his eyes, and he wanted anything but to tell Blaine the truth. He'd been hiding it too long.

Blaine only nodded in response, his curls sliding across the pillow his head was resting on. Wariness painted his face, and his body tensed visibly, causing Kurt even more anguish as he realized Blaine would listen, but that he was bracing himself for the worst. Kurt decided to bumble on, ignoring everything else, knowing he had to get this out.

Kurt's voice wavered a bit as he tried to start again. "Blaine, I feel like I need to give you an explanation for what happened. I didn't ever want to hurt you. I was so stupid. And once I realized how very stupid I had been, it was too late. And then my absolute embarrassment at that prevented me from contacting you for years afterward. What was I going to say? That I had been dumb, please take me back? I, I couldn't do it. It was my failure, not yours that caused this mess. It is absolutely and completely my fault. Oh, dear Blaine, honey, you didn't do this. It was me, me and my bad choices one after another. And I couldn't be sorrier."

Kurt tried to reach Blaine's eyes, tried to lean down into his view, but it wasn't working. Blaine wasn't moving; he was just staring down at his hands where they were folded in his lap. He was leaned back on a couch pillow, but his body had gone visibly rigid, as if he were bracing for a fatal blow. Kurt decided to just continue as best he could and get it all out. If he stopped now, he didn't know that he'd ever be able to start again.

"Remember, oh hell, remember how I was majoring in both fashion and music – trying to have it all? Well, shortly after we broke up, not even a week later, I dropped the musical theater part. I'm sure you've figured that out now from my career path. But the reason I dropped it came out of the situation surrounding our break-up.

"Oh god, I , um . . . This is so hard and I'm so ashamed of all this. If I'd have just talked to you then, maybe we wouldn't have had to go through this, but I thought for certain I was doing the right thing." Tears were biting at the back of Kurt's eyes. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. He was actually going to tell Blaine.

He remembered that night so distinctly – how he'd decided to stay late at the studio because Blaine was gone and he was completely swamped with everything in both programs. He knew it was too much but never wanted to give up or give in. This had been his downfall so many times, and it had screwed up everything in their lives. Kurt tried to fight back the tears that were already one by one making their ways out of his eyes and down his pale cheeks. He fought to get the words out.

"Right, yes, well, continuing on with the story – I'd had huge projects due in just about every class right after that weekend you left to see Wes and David. You left on Thursday because your Friday classes had been canceled. I don't know if you remember, but I had . . ."

Blaine interrupted him, his quiet voice cutting through. "You had a design pallet due in fashion merchandising, and your first full garments constructed entirely by you coming up, and you had two composition assignments due. I remember." His voice was quiet but steady. The scenes were playing in his head as well. Kurt could tell by the tilt of it. He was thinking. Hard. And remembering, still trying to figure out what had happened as Kurt spoke.

Kurt looked up at him, startled. He couldn't believe that Blaine remembered so much detail from that weekend. He cleared his throat and tried to continue. "Well, yes. I did; that's right. It was awful – I was stressed out and couldn't focus because I just kept thinking of everything that I had to get done. I had no time and was just darting from one project to the next, never really getting anything accomplished. So I left the studio and headed back to my dorm room. I needed quiet, and I needed to check on the projects I'd left back there.

"Once I got in, I was just so exhausted, and I started studying on my bed. I had class on Friday morning early and still hadn't finished one of my compositions for class at 9:30 the next morning. I thought I'd study a little to clear my head and then get back to writing. So I sat down on my bed to study. The next thing I knew it was 9:15 the next morning. I woke up to my roommate banging through the door in a towel getting ready for class. I still wasn't done, and I was in a complete panic. The music had to be finished, and I only had a few minutes to get ready, and I couldn't think. I didn't think."

Kurt broke down worse then, knowing he was getting to the crux of the problem, or the beginning of the crux anyway. He'd betrayed Blaine so badly, and now he'd know. He'd never look at Kurt with those eyes again – layered with trust and admiration and love. All Kurt would see there now was disappointment and hurt. Blame.

"Yeah?" Blaine's quiet voice questioned him and pushed him on with the story. Kurt chanced a quick look at him and saw what he expected – a confused looking, terrified man who wouldn't raise his eyes to look at him. He had pulled a pillow onto his lap, and he was clutching it to his chest in a protective manner, trying to shield himself from what was to come. "And then what?"

"I, um, I . . ." Kurt swallowed and tried to start again, his mouth suddenly dry. "I grabbed the one project I had done and was frantically looking for the composition I had started, hoping there was enough that I could use it or make some excuse. I couldn't find it. But I did find a song. I found one of yours." Tears streaming down his face, cheeks burning with embarrassment, Kurt forced himself to continue. "So I didn't think. I grabbed it and threw it in my bag. I ran to class. I truly didn't think about it. I didn't. And I have regretted that ever since."

Blaine was looking at him, puzzled. He cleared his throat, and Kurt's eyes were drawn to him. "This is all over a song? Really?" The disbelief in his voice cut straight through Kurt's heart.

"No, Blaine. The song was the start." He sighed and wiped at his eyes with his hand, lower lip quivering a bit before he steadied himself. "I took it to class. I didn't know the prof was going to look over them while we worked on our other stuff. I just threw my name on it and put it with the other one. Which was garbage by the way. I was never the songwriter you were. We were working on something else – I can't even remember what – but these songs, the two we'd turned in, were half the grade. We were at midterms. I'd had such terrible writer's block and had so much else going on, I can't believe I'd left it so long, something so important. So we were working – remember this was one of those three-hour torture session classes – and the prof, he called us back to the group and said he'd picked the top grades. Those in the top were going to be asked to play. You got extra credit or something if you did it, and we were all performance majors so it wasn't a shocker. What was a shocker was that he called my name, told me that one of my pieces was 'uninspired drivel' but that the other was fantastic –raw and full of emotion, exactly what we'd been asked to do."

He paused, letting his words soak in, enjoying a few seconds of reprieve from his tale. He took a sip of the water he'd brought with him into the living room, sneaking glances at Blaine over the edge of the cup. Blaine's face was so conflicted. What Kurt had said so far was bad, but it wasn't break-up bad. It was unethical, but they could have worked through it. It still didn't make sense.

Kurt sighed and started back into it. "So I had to play. Your song, because mine was the drivel, unsurprisingly. And I had to play it in front of the whole class. It was a pretty big one too – about forty odd people in the section. When I came up to the front, the professor noted that it was strange the way the song was written out. He berated me some that the song was written for guitar, not piano as we had been assigned, but he said if I'd sing the melodic line, he'd forgive it. I was so relieved that I could read your chicken scratch chords and knew the song."

Kurt's hands went over his face, rubbing it, knowing this was getting worse. "You'd played it for me just before you left, which is probably why it was on top of the pile and in my room, not yours. Anyway, I had to perform it. So I did. In front of the class. And I sang it. It went really pretty well; that wasn't the problem. The prof liked it, and I got the grade. It was after the class that the problem really started."

Blaine's throat clearing caused Kurt to stop his train of thought. "What song was it, Kurt? The one you took?" He still looked so damned confused as to why this was such a big deal and what it had to do with their break-up. "You know, if you'd called me or whatever, I'd have let you have the song. We'd have talked when I got back about your workload and everything and what happened, but if it was just the taking of the song, I mean we could have gotten through that. But, what one was it? I wanna know." Blaine said most of this into his pillow that was still pressed to his chest. His knees had risen to his chest through Kurt's speech as well, building up a visible wall between them.

"It was, um, it was 'The Muse,'" Kurt replied. "That's the one I took."

Blaine looked up at him, visibly puzzled and possibly a little amused. "You're seriously telling me you stole 'my muse'? If you weren't so damn serious about this I'd be laughing my ass off." Blaine let out a light chuckle anyway. "Seriously, Kurt, of all the songs, you steal my 'Muse'?"

A small smile crept at the corner of Kurt's mouth. "Yeah, I know. Bad word choice." Kurt enjoyed the moment of relative lightheartedness before plowing on, "So, anyway, the professor liked it, and everything seemed fine. I mean as fine as plagiarism can be, I guess. And lying, and stealing from your boyfriend, and taking credit for his brilliance. But I had gotten through it, and I would have told you. I would have, I swear. But after class something else happened. I went back to my dorm and tried to pull my shit together. I was hopeful I'd gotten away with everything, but I was nowhere near in the clear. I went to the rest of my classes that day and worked in the studio and everything like normal. When I got back for the night, my roommate was there getting ready to go out. Well, you were gone, and I wanted a drink after the crap I went through that day, so I said I'd go with him.

"We went out to some random pub that some of the music people liked to frequent because Derrick (the roommate. Remember him? And his fascination with tube socks?) was a music theater minor. The night went fine, a few light drinks interspersed with plain Diet Coke. You know the way I drink – well, really don't drink. Anyway, as the night wore on, I found myself alone with a few of the people that happened to be in the performance class I'd had that day. We were all glad our midterm assignments had been turned in and were reveling in the bit of the break we were getting. A few of the classmates commented that they had liked my song, but I just brushed it off and changed the subject.

"Most of them went up to get another drink, and they left me alone with Marcus. He was in my class, and I think you were an acquaintance of his as well. In fact I know you were." Kurt's head began to hang a little lower with Marcus' name being spoken. He stared at the floor near the coffee table, his eyes going gray, losing the last of their bright blue. "Marcus had been staring at me all night. It was a little creepy, but I didn't think about it much. I was just enjoying being out. There must have been a backup at the bar or something because we were left alone for a while. He asked me about you. Where you were. I told him you were gone, that you were visiting friends for the weekend. He then got this weird look on his face and congratulated me on my grade in class earlier that day. He'd never done well in performance composition, and he wasn't picked top. I figured he was a little jealous. He let the subject die for a few minutes, but brought it up again when there was a lull in the music."

Kurt's voice broke, and he started crying in earnest. His body called at him to seek comfort in Blaine's arms, but he held himself back. He'd inflicted enough pain on Blaine. It was time for him to take it all on himself. "Marcus commented that he liked _my_ song. And that's the way he said it. _MY_ song. He knew, Blaine. He knew. And then he told me that he'd really liked it, probably even better, when he'd heard _you_ sing it in that coffee shop a few weeks before when you'd introduced it as a new song you'd just finished. He grinned at me then. Grinned this evil grin. He was jealous. He was pissed he didn't do as well. And he knew. I didn't know what to do. The others came back then, and he didn't say anything else. I was terrified he would. I mean, you know the penalty for cheating. I could have been kicked out of the program, and if it had gotten back to the right people, I could have been kicked out of the university altogether. What would my dad have said? What would you have said? It was so _FUCKING_ stupid. I should have just taken the fail, but I had to grab that song, and I got myself into it.

"I sat there all the rest of the night scared to death of what was going to happen to me with stupid fucking Marcus staring at me and making these weird smiles. When we left, which I couldn't wait for, Marcus made sure to be at the back of the group with me. And he asked me 'What's it going to take? What are you going to do to make sure I don't tell the professor and the dean that you're a pretentious lying cheating little teacher's pet?' I asked him what he wanted.

"And before I tell you this, Blaine, I'm just, I'm so sorry." His sobs were coming in earnest now, the words broken and somewhat hard to understand. He moved closer to Blaine, seeing them as though he was letting this whole story out to the Blaine of old, as though they were still in college and his boyfriend had come home from a fun weekend to find him broken and waiting for him in his dorm room. But that hadn't happened. This had, and so Kurt pushed forward.

"Marcus wanted me to go out with him. On a date the next night. I'd told him you'd be gone all weekend before I knew what he was up to. He knew you'd be gone. And I, I agreed because I thought it'd be over. The deal was for one date and he wouldn't tell. I just had to go. And it was awful. It's why I didn't answer my phone that Saturday. I wasn't working all day, although I did a bit. I just couldn't talk to you knowing this was coming. I went out with him, and it was just dinner and a drink or two, although he had several more than I did, and I didn't even touch him, I swear. But he walked me back to the dorms, and he said it wasn't enough. That if there wasn't more, he'd tell. He wanted to start a relationship with me behind your back or he'd get me kicked out of college. He said he'd tell you that not only did I steal your song, I had cheated on you, too. He, he . . ."

Kurt bit his lips, tears squeezing out on both sides. "He pushed me up against the building, and he kissed me. He was bigger than me, and I couldn't stop him. It was vile and awful and then he, he groped me and he wouldn't leave me alone. I tried to get away but he slammed me back against the wall. He grabbed my, he grabbed my, my _parts_, and it was so awful. Nobody'd ever touched me there but you, and I never wanted anyone else to. It made me so sick. I nearly vomited in his mouth. I wish I would have. I finally got so I could move enough so I kneed him in the groin.

"He got off me then, pushed me to the ground and told me I'd pay for that. I'd pay, and now there was nothing I could do. But there was. If we weren't together, he couldn't hurt you. So Sunday night you came back, and I broke up with you. I'd been ruined. I'd stolen from you, had commgone out with someone behind your back and gotten kissed, and someone had put their hands on me. I'd lied about so much. And so Monday, I got it together enough that I dropped all my music classes and withdrew from the performance major. Even if he did turn me in then, it wouldn't matter."

Kurt could barely see through the tears that filled his eyes. He could tell Blaine was crying as well, but couldn't tell what he was thinking. His heart hurt so much from reliving the worst weekend of his life; the pain was nearly unbearable. He dropped to his knees in front of Blaine, lightly placing his hands on Blaine's knees. "I'm so sorry, Blaine. I've screwed up so badly. But it was so long ago. I could not be sorrier. And it wasn't your fault, Blaine, none of it. I'm so sorry you went all this time thinking that it was when everything was destroyed by me."

Blaine pushed him off and dropped the pillow. He looked at Kurt with such disgust it terrified him. "You were right, Kurt, when you told me you were selfish. I think I need a minute." Blaine wrapped his arms around himself, got up off the couch, and walked stiffly towards the bathroom as Kurt heard the "PING" of the oven timer indicating that their dinner was ready. He wiped his face one more time of the tears that continued to stream down and moved towards the kitchen because it was the only thing he could think of to do.

* * *

><p>Thanks all for reading! I will try to update more often now that we've gotten over this hump. I hope you all don't want to kill me. Constructive criticism and comments are always welcome!<p> 


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I'm so very sorry for the hiatus. If you care about the reason or want to know more, see the author's note at the end. I seriously wasn't trying to be an asshole making everyone wait this long, I promise! So Merry Christmas (if you're celebrating). And thanks to kurtstalker and others, as well as my new followers for encouraging me to get this out. I appreciate every one of you who have shown concern on my part. It truly has meant a lot. It is my goal to now update this every other week until I'm finished. That's the goal, anyway. This one is un-beta'ed because I wanted to get it out as soon as I finished it. Thanks and I hope everyone hung around. Again, I'm so very sorry about the extreme delay. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

* * *

><p>"Shall we go to the living room while we wait? The couch and stuff are probably much more comfortable than the kitchen chairs and, well, there's something I need – no want to talk to you about, Blaine," Kurt stated, his voice falling a bit apprehensive and quiet at the end of his statement.<p>

Emotion grabbed at Blaine's heart and stopped the words short coming out his mouth. They seemed to catch in the back of his throat and he had to clear it to even answer Kurt. "Sure, um, I guess that'd be okay." Blaine's answer came out quieter than Kurt's request had, hesitant and strained. Not knowing what else to do, he followed Kurt into the living room.

As Blaine settled on the couch, his mind seemed to roar to life and the reality of what the conversation they were going to have came to the forefront. The possibilities were endless, really, and his mind ran away with him. All of the potential scenarios he had come up with over the years fought for the position of 'most likely' in his head. He couldn't settle on just one and it was overwhelming that he might have an answer, finally after all these years.

He could already smell the cooking lasagna's scent wafting through the apartment. But the scent did nothing but cause Blaine's stomach to turn even more. After Kurt had said he wanted to talk to him about something, he couldn't think of anything else and how sick he was to his stomach that he'd finally find out why he was so unworthy. _Something_, Kurt had said. It could be anything that he wanted to talk to Blaine about. It could be that a boyfriend had resurfaced in Kurt's life, or he was leaving, or he didn't really want Blaine around. But he had said he wanted to talk to him. Blaine couldn't help but hope Kurt wanted to finally tell him what he'd done. Or not done. Why he hadn't been enough for Kurt.

Silence settled over the two men seated on opposite ends of the couch. Blaine couldn't help but pick at his fingers, examining each and every cuticle, wanting the waiting to be over. Kurt wasn't facing him, but seemed to be collecting himself as he stared down at the floor. His eyes closed briefly before Blaine sensed Kurt turning towards him.

Kurt started talking, slowly at first, gaining momentum as he went on. But Blaine couldn't seem to comprehend all that he was hearing. It wasn't so much the words that were sinking in, getting past his barriers that he had carefully maintained for so long, but really the meaning behind them. The pleading he could hear in Kurt's soft voice – the longing for them to have some sort of relationship. Kurt was asking him to be in his life – on a regular basis. Blaine's heart warmed a bit at his request. It fluttered in his chest, hope filling his down-turned eyes. He could think of nothing better than being around his Kurt, even if it was just as friends.

Kurt continued, and all Blaine could hear was "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He knew before the words came out of Kurt's mouth. He was going to know, whether he really wanted to or not – and he wouldn't really be able to know if he did want to know until after he'd heard. The blood was roaring in his ears and he forced it down, forced his ears to listen to what Kurt was saying to him, to focus on the words. It took all of his concentration to keep listening to Kurt's voice and not lose the present. His mind wanted to escape and flee to other times and places and much more pleasant conversations he'd always wished he would have had with Kurt.

Tears started to pool in his eyes, falling without reservation to the pillow below his chin. He was terrified. There was no other emotion that could describe what he was trying to fight. Blaine's muscles were tight and starting to cramp up on him, everything in his head was screaming at him – _hurt, failure, run, run, run, get out, don't listen, don't let him in_. But with what was left of his self-control, Blaine stayed put and waited for Kurt to continue. His fear of finding out his final and utter failure helped keep him rooted to the spot.

During his fight with himself, Kurt had asked him a question. He played over the last part of their conversation in his head, and heard Kurt ask, "Can you just let me, and listen . . . please . . . it's going to be hard to hear, but I need to tell you and I think you want to know. Yes?"

Blaine kept his face down, playing with his fingers and the edge of the pillow. Avoiding, always avoiding. The pause went on slightly too long for even his comfort, and he glanced up quickly and momentarily met Kurt's eyes. He nodded just then and quickly averted his eyes. He'd given Kurt enough to continue and Blaine sat rigidly in his seat, just bracing for everything that was coming, his head aching with the strain of forcing himself to remain where he was and just listen.

"Blaine, there's something I want to talk to you about. I want you to trust me again, and I think the only real way we can move past everything that has gone on between us and have solid ground is for me to tell you this. I never wanted to – I never wanted to hurt you and I hope you can come to understand that. I tortured you for no reason really, but while it was going on, when I cut you out of my life, I truly thought I was protecting you," Kurt began.

"I tortured you for no reason, really?" were the only words Blaine could latch onto. _Was I nothing?_ A nothing reason was what ruined everything, what tore apart my heart and my life. The panic he was now so used to feeling was starting to boil in his stomach. Despite his distress, Kurt continued on.

"And I'm sorry, you must know how sorry I am and how much I've regretted doing not only what I did, but cutting you out." Blaine could only nod. His head fell back against the pillows on the couch, catching him. He stopped himself from moving more, hoping that tipping his head back would stop the tears that threatened. He just wanted to get through this, to find out why and be able to escape with whatever scraps of dignity he had left.

All Kurt was going on about was how he couldn't tell him, how he'd hid himself. Did he have any idea the anguish he was putting Blaine through? What had happened to him after he left? His hands were drawing his attention again, now that he realized no matter what he did the tears would come. The tension in his body prevented him from doing much more, but all he wanted was the truth and for everything to be over. _Everything_.

Kurt's story continued. And that's how he saw it – a story. Far off in the distance as though it had happened to someone else, not him at all. That Kurt's story didn't point out clues to him that he hadn't caught then and didn't catch now. He'd changed majors – dropped one actually. He should have caught that. Kurt had loved them both so much. And Blaine had known that because as much as he hated to admit it, he did check up on him doing what he could through the school's website.

"Right, yes, well, continuing on with the story – I'd had huge projects due in just about every class right after that weekend you left to see Wes and David. You left on Thursday because your Friday classes had been canceled. I don't know if you remember, but I had . . ."

Blaine knew this part of the story and he found his voice again. Making every effort to keep his tone even, he managed to state, "You had a design pallet due in Fashion merchandising, and your first full garments constructed entirely by you coming up and had two composition assignments due. I remember." He knew this part of the story. This was him and Kurt prior to Kurt leaving. He remembered these weeks so well, he'd gone over them so many times in the past. They had replayed late at night and into mornings without sleep, searching his memories for anything that would lead him to a clue as to what had happened and how to win Kurt back. He was thinking. Hard. And remembering, trying still, to figure out what had happened.

The next part started to sound like every excuse in the book – busy and tired and worn out. These were no reason for Kurt to leave him. These were the times he leaned on Blaine, counted on him above everyone else. Kurt had always turned to him before during these trying times when school and work and everything else was tearing him up. But evidently he didn't this time. He'd resorted to something else. Kurt had his full attention now, while Blaine was wracking his brain for any clues as to what had happened.

"Once I got in, I was just so exhausted, and I started studying on my bed. I had class on Friday morning early and still hadn't finished one of my compositions for class at 9:30 the next morning. I thought I'd study a little to clear my head and then get back to writing. So I sat down on my bed to study. The next thing I knew it was 9:15 the next morning and I woke up to my roommate banging through the door in a towel getting ready for class. I still wasn't done and I was in a complete panic. The music had to be finished and I only had a few minutes to even get ready and I couldn't think. I didn't think."

What was this? This didn't really matter. It was a non-story, one that you would forget or at least ever learn from and tell as a joke later in life. A failed class, or assignment, that was all. He couldn't comprehend how this, of all things, tied to them and him and what he had ruined. "Yeah?" He questioned Kurt, before he even realized he had spoken. He had to know now. The pillow he'd had near his hip was now on his lap and Blaine was clutching at it. This couldn't be it – it was entirely too trivial to be any part of the reason. "And then what?"

"I, um, I," Kurt swallowed. "I grabbed the one project I had done and was frantically looking for the one I had started, hoping there was enough that I could use it or make some excuse, but I couldn't find it. But I did find. I found one of yours. So I didn't think, I grabbed it and I threw it in my bag. I ran to class. I truly didn't think about it. I didn't. And I have regretted that ever since.

Blaine's eyes rose on their own accord. Seriously? Where was the cheating, the failure, the disdain for him? Where was the ultimate, fatal flaw he had that caused Kurt to hate him so? He cleared his throat and Kurt's tear-filled eyes met his. "This is all over a song? Really?" The disbelief in his voice caused it to waiver and give away his emotion.

"No, Blaine. The song was the start. I took it to class. I didn't know the prof was going to look over them while we worked on our other stuff. I just threw my name on it put it with the other one. Which was garbage by the way. I was never the songwriter you were. We were working on something elese, I can't even remember what but these songs, the two we'd turned in were half the grade. We were at midterms. I'd had such terrible writer's block and had so much else going on, I can't believe I'd left it so long, something so important. So we were working, remember this was one of those three hour torture session classes. And the prof, he called us back to the group and said he'd picked the top grades. Those in the top were going to be asked to play. You got extra credit or something if you did it and we were all performance majors so it wasn't a shocker. What was a shocker was that he called my name. Told me that my one piece was 'uninspired drivel' but that the other was fantastic –raw and full of emotion, exactly what we'd been asked to do."

Kurt was taking a drink of water. He looked apprehensive, but overall was pretty calm. This was nothing. He'd stolen a song. For a class that didn't really matter. Evidently he'd played his song too, getting noticed that it was written for guitar and not piano, but getting good marks despite that fact. What song was it? What had he had lying around at Kurt's that would have worked? What would have not missed after Kurt left him?

He carried no, distracting Blaine from searching his brain for the missing song. "You'd played it just before you left for me, which is probably why it was on top of the pile and in my room not yours. Anyway, I had to perform it. So I did. In front of the class and I sang it. It went really pretty well, that wasn't the problem. The prof liked it and I got the grade. It was after the class that the problem really started."

Blaine cleared his throat. He had to know, he just had to. What was it that he had written that had ruined everything? Or bought about the path to everything being ruined? "What song was it, Kurt? The one you took?" The confusion must have shown on his face. He met Kurt's eyes again and read pity there – one emotion he never wanted to see on Kurt's face again. He had to figure this out. It was too much, and so not enough. A stolen, or borrowed song didn't have to cost everything they had had. "You know, if you'd called me or whatever, I'd have let you have the song. We'd have talked when I got back about your workload and everything and what happened, but if it was just the taking of the song, I mean we could have gotten through that. But, what one was it? I wanna know."

"It was, um, it was 'The Muse,'" Kurt replied. "That's the one I took."

Blaine looked up at him, visibly puzzled and possibly a little amused. "You're seriously telling me you stole 'my muse?' If you weren't so damn serious about this I'd be laughing my ass off." Blaine chuckle a bit anyway. "Seriously, Kurt, of all the songs, you steal my 'Muse?!"

Blaine managed another glimpse up at Kurt and noticed a small smile that crept at the corner of Kurt's mouth. "Yeah, I know. Bad word choice. So, anyway, the professor liked it and everything seemed fine. I mean as fine as plagiarism can be, I guess. And lying, and stealing from your boyfriend and taking credit for his brilliance. But I had gotten through it and I would have told you, I would have, I swear. But after class something else happened. I went back to my dorm and tried to pull my shit together. I was hopeful I'd gotten away with everything, but I was nowhere near in the clear. I went to the rest of my classes that day and worked in the studio and everything like normal. When I got back for the night, my roommate was there getting ready to go out. Well, you were gone and I wanted a drink after the crap I went through that day, so I said I'd go with him.

We went out to some random pub that some of the music people liked to frequent because Derrick (the roommate, remember him? With his fascination with tube socks?) was a music minor. The night went fine, a few light drinks interspersed with Diet Coke, you know the way I drink well really don't drink. Anyway, as the night wore on, I found myself alone with a few of the people that happened to be in the performance class I'd had that day. We were all glad our midterm assignments had been turned in and were reveling in the bit of the break we were getting.

Most of them went up to get another drink and they left me alone with Marcus. He was in my class and I think you were an acquaintance of his as well. In fact I know you were." Kurt's words were beginning to falter and come slower. "Marcus had been staring at me all night. It was a little creepy but I didn't think about it much. I was just enjoying being out. There must have been a backup at the bar or something because we were left alone for a while. He asked me about you. Where you were. I told him you were gone, that you were visiting friends for the weekend. He then got this weird look on his face and congratulated me on my grade in class earlier that day. He'd never done well in performance composition and he wasn't picked top. I figured he was a little jealous. He let the subject die for a few minutes, but brought it up again when there was a lull in the music."

Kurt's words stopped then. Blaine had been trying to just listen, wondering if he needed to go after Marcus or the dumb roommate. He wondered where he had really been that night – if he had really needed to go see Wes and David that weekend or if it had just been an excuse to escape for a bit. What would have happened if he had been there for Kurt? Kurt was crying in earnest now, but he still fought to speak. Blaine had lost his voice, so Kurt continued without interruption. "Marcus commented that he liked _my_ song. And that's' the way he said it. _MY_ song. He knew, Blaine. He knew. And then he told me that he'd really liked it, probably even better when he'd heard _you_ sing it in that coffee shop a few weeks before when you'd introduced it as a new song you'd just finished. He had grinned at me then. Grinned this evil grin. And he was jealous. He was pissed he didn't do as well. And he knew. I didn't know what to do. The others came back then and he didn't say anything else. I was terrified he would. I mean, you know the penalty for cheating. I could be kicked out of the program and if it got back to the right people, I could have been kicked out of the university all together. What would my dad have said? What would you have said? It was so FUCKING stupid. I should have just taken the fail but I had to grab that song I had to and I got myself into it.

I sat there all the rest of the night scared to death of what was going to happen to me with stupid fucking Marcus staring at me and making these weird smiles. When we left, which I couldn't wait for, Marcus made sure to be at the back of the group with me. And he asked me 'What's it going to take? What are you going to do to make sure I don't' tell the professor and the dean that you're a pretentious lying cheating little teacher's pet?' I asked him what he wanted.

And before I tell you this, Blaine, I'm just, I'm so sorry." Kurt's words were indistinguishable now, between the tears. And Blaine struggled to understand him, struggled to keep the roaring in his ears down, to be able to hear what Kurt had left to say. He could see Kurt moving closer to him on the couch, but he was powerless to stop him. He could move, or think, or speak. There must have been something else. He could have done something, anything! But what, what was it? His brain was rushing, rushing and not letting him stop.

"Marcus wanted me to go out with him. On a date the next night. I'd told him you'd be gone all weekend before I knew what he was up to. He knew you'd be gone. And I , I agreed because I thought it'd be over. The deal was for one date and he wouldn't tell. I just had to go. And it was awful. It's why I didn't answer my phone that Saturday. I wasn't working all day, although I did a bit. I just couldn't talk to you and know this was coming. I went out with him and it was just dinner and a drink or two, although he had several more than I did and I didn't even touch him, I swear. But he walked me back to the dorms and he said it wasn't enough. That if there wasn't more, he'd tell. He, he - he pushed me up against the building and he kissed me. He was bigger than me and I couldn't stop him and it was vile and awful and then he, he groped me and he wouldn't leave me alone. He grabbed my, he grabbed my _parts_ and it was so awful. Nobody'd ever touched me there but you and I never wanted anyone else to. It make me so sick. I nearly vomited in his mouth. I wish I would have. I finally got so I could move enough, I kneed him in the groin."

There was something. Something to cling to – there had been something else. Something had ruined this – _it was the fact that Kurt thought he valued being his 'first and only' so much that he couldn't face me again_. _I'd built up my love for him on a false floor – I would have loved him if he'd been my tenth but I never let him know that. It was my fault, my failure_.

Despite the revelation going on in Blaine's head, Kurt continued, "He got off me then and told me I'd pay for that. I'd pay and now there was nothing I could do. But there was. Sunday night you came back and I broke up with you. I'd been ruined. I'd stolen from you, gone out with someone behind your back and gotten kissed and someone had put their hands on me. I'd lied about so much. And so Monday, I got it together enough that I dropped all my music classes and withdrew from the performance major."

They were both crying now; the hard wracking tears of the truly heartbroken, but for so very different reasons. Blaine jumped as Kurt dropped to his knees in front of him, lightly placing his hands on Blaine's knees. "I'm so sorry Blaine, I've screwed up so badly. But it was so long ago. I could never be more sorry."

Blaine pushed him off and dropped the pillow. The disgust he felt for himself and for Kurt's actions boiled over and he had to get away. He had to escape to think, to regain himself, and to figure out what the hell he was going to do with this information. "You were right, Kurt, when you told me you were selfish. I think I need a minute."

He managed to push himself off the couch and head to the bathroom. Blaine made it to the bathroom. He at least made it there, and locked the door before he started hyperventilating. It was all too much. His breath came in short, fast gasps and he felt like he couldn't fill his lungs. His mind couldn't process fast enough. This was all over a stupid song?! A stupid song he would have gladly helped Kurt with but Kurt had always, always gotten himself so worked up about the smallest things. His whole life had been torn away from him for a song.

A song and for Kurt to save face… a small part of his brain reminded him. Kurt chose this as the best option. And the best option wasn't doing everything he could to save them. To save him. Blaine's hands gripped the countertop hard enough that his fingertips were losing color. He'd failed too – he'd failed to show Kurt how unconditional his love really was. And for that, and that alone he had deserved all the punishment he'd gotten over the years. He had to leave.

His whole life had been shattered, his road altered when Kurt decided to use of one his songs and then leave him to "protect him." Blaine hadn't processed it all yet, but his mind kept repeating "you weren't worth telling, you're nothing, not even worth a song, he couldn't risk his reputation on you." "You're not worth it; You're not worth it."

The nights he'd spent imagining what had happened in his room, the days he'd spent missing Kurt, the thousands of times he'd picked up his phone and wished he had Kurt's number: they were all a waste. He was a waste. Kurt had just told him so.

He didn't see Kurt crumpled on the floor when he threw the door to the bathroom open and practically ran down the hallway to the door. He yanked on it, momentarily fumbling with the lock. Then he was outside, before he even knew what he was really doing and before his mind could catch up. The darkness surprised him and the cold air shocked his lungs. He'd left his coat behind but he didn't care. He couldn't. He just had to move. His feet carried him forward, toward the subway stop he needed.

The cold night air burnt in his lungs as he heaved breaths. He couldn't seem to suck in enough air to fill them. The burning in his chest convinced him he was still living, still moving through the cold darkness toward his apartment.

* * *

><p>He couldn't catch him. Blaine must have disappeared into one of the buildings or a bus. He was too late. Kurt tried texting him but he got no answer. He tried calling too, but on the second attempt Blaine's phone went straight to voice mail. He didn't want to talk to Kurt, evidently, and wasn't going to respond.<p>

Kurt sighed and his shoulders sagged. He fell back against the building behind him and squeezed his eyes shut to try and stop the tears that were gathering. He'd fucked it up again. He'd wanted Blaine in his life so much; much more than he had realized. Blaine meant the world, and now that he was back and Kurt had the opportunity to even have him around, loosing that was losing more than Kurt could really stand. He let his head fall back against the wall and bounced it lightly against the bricks. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ He shouldn't have let out the story so soon; he shouldn't have told him all at once and certainly he shouldn't have done what he did in the first place.

No grade, no class, no career was worth more than Blaine and what they had had together. And he'd thrown it all away for to save a career and prevent something that might never have even happened. It was all so frustratingly stupid he couldn't stand it. After a few minutes had past, Kurt tried Blaine's phone again to no avail. He would just have to wait it out evidently.

* * *

><p>Days passed with no word from Blaine. Kurt continued to try to contact him. He tried through text and through calling, but Blaine wouldn't respond. He even tried blocking his number so Blaine couldn't see it was him, but Blaine still wouldn't answer. Every day when Kurt came home from work, he couldn't help but run his fingers over the felted wool of Blaine's jacket that he'd left by mistake in Kurt's apartment in his haste to leave.<p>

After the fourth day of no contact from Blaine, Kurt picked up the coat on his way into the apartment and after he changed, brought it with him to the couch. He cuddled up to it, and just breathed in the smell of Blaine. It still lingered in the lining of the jacket, which Kurt couldn't help but notice was really worn and faded. He settled the jacket over a pillow on his couch and laid his head on it, enjoying allowing Blaine's scent to surround him and maybe letting himself pretend for just a few moments that it was Blaine he was leaning on, not some designer pillow and worn out jacket.

He adjusted his head on the pillow, pretending as much as he could it was Blaine. But there was a hard bit poking at him, making it hard to fall into what he wanted to believe was happening. He reached into Blaine's pocket and pulled out a small metal case with _BA_ inscribed on the cover in scripted. He opened it to find a small stack of Blaine's business cards. Under Blaine Anderson was written, _Smith, Williams and Carlson, Attorneys at Law._ A phone number followed, and Kurt knew he'd found a way to find Blaine. As he pulled the cards out, a small key fell out from where it had been hidden behind.

* * *

><p>Kurt finally found the building. It was down a side street that more resembled an alley than a street. It was dirty and narrow, filth and discarded rubbish lined the edges. He never would have walked down this street normally, would have deemed it dangerous or might not have even noticed it was there. Knowing it was Blaine's street, he made is way down it, although he thought twice and glanced around. He found the door easy enough. There was no doorman, and the entrance was locked when he tried the door. He wouldn't have come except when he talked to the law firm, they hadn't seen him in a few days either. The guise of calling as his brother had helped get that information out. He'd evidently called in sick a few days ago and no one had seen him or heard from him since.<p>

He approached the building and stared at the brick, contemplating what he was going to do now. He didn't stand there long, though, because the neighborhood wasn't the best and he wasn't going to wait for someone to approach him. Kurt looked around for a buzzer, but there wasn't one, so he tried the door. It was open and there was no doorman. It was readily apparent that Blaine's apartment wasn't nearly as nice as Kurt's.

He fished the key from Blaine's case out of his pocket and tried it. As the key was fitting in the lock, realization hit Kurt and his head fell forward to hit the door. Of course. Blaine didn't have anyone else. He'd cut off from all his friends, and what little he had of a family. He had no significant other to look in on him. He was alone in the city and only Kurt knew that something was up with him. Kurt's eyes closed as he fumbled to get the door open, struggling with what to do. He had to find him today, that was all. He had to at least make sure he was okay. Kurt really didn't want to be responsible for him losing his job on top of everything else. It would be just too much, and he'd already taken everything else from Blaine.

Kurt remembered his trudge home from the office the night he called Blaine's firm, his heart heavier than he'd ever remembered. It had been even worse that the first time after they had 're-met.' Blaine knew about him now, knew how heartless and selfish he was. And now he wasn't wanted. It was really what he'd feared all along. He wasn't good enough for someone like Blaine. As he made his way up the steps in Blaine's apartment building, he turned over the conversation with Blaine's secretary a few times. She hadn't said that anyone else had called looking for him, and actually seemed puzzled that someone who wasn't a client was calling for Blaine. It seemed odd.

He knew what number he was looking for, but he checked the mailboxes just inside the door to make sure. Apartment 3F didn't have a name written on the tag, it was more of a scribble, but he could make out the A of Anderson, so he assumed he was right. The building was a walk up which surprised him, since Blaine had been in such bad shape that he didn't think he could have walked up three flights of stairs many of the times Kurt had seen him, but perhaps he had underestimated Blaine.

He made his way to the third floor, trying to ignore the general dinginess of the apartment building and the creaking of the old steps that needed replacing. 3F was down the hall and on the left. It was easy enough to find. Kurt stared at the peeling paint for a few moments, trying to decide if this was really the best route for him to take.

* * *

><p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I understand a lot of it was repetitive but I figured after the break, it might be nice to ease back into it.<p>

As for my break, again I apologize. I have a family member who was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. For those who don't know, with that disease it is usually a discussion of how many months left rather than a treatment plan. The family member, along with her husband and daughter (who is special needs) has moved in with my immediate family. It has been quite trying and a difficult adjustment for all. During these past months, I lost my will to write for a while.

Rest assured I have no intention of abandoning this story and I appreciate all of the heartfelt messages I have received.

Reviews are Christmas presents (and Festivus Presents!)

.


End file.
